


In Dreams (Everything Makes Sense)

by msermesth



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky Barnes Is a Good Bro, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, Civil War Fix-It, Clint Is a Good Bro, Council on Cap Relations, In Universe Alternate Universe, M/M, Natasha Is a Good Bro, POV Bucky Barnes, POV Steve Rogers, POV Tony Stark, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-09-26 22:17:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 41,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9924365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msermesth/pseuds/msermesth
Summary: “So, you’re saying there isn’t a chance that Steve and Tony’s relationship could have been more than friendly?”“No!” Clint and Natasha said at the same time, but then she added, “I’m not saying it couldn’t happen or anything. Just that I don’t believe it already has. The more I think about it... I guess it makes some sense? Tony and Steve... I swear it could be the end of the world, and they would be bickering about something or the other. But they would still be together. Their friendship was... intense.”“Shame it all went to hell.” Clint muttered and shook his head. “They’ve got so much baggage, there is no way it could happen.”“So, you’re saying Steve and Tony would need to be in some sort of alternate dream state, removed their past history, in order to realize they really just want to be together?” Bucky asked with a smirk.“Uh, when you put it that way…” Clint conceded.Or, it only took a group hallucination for Bucky to find his team and Steve and Tony to find each other.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This started as House of M meets the MCU, but post-Civil War and with Stony. Because obviously. But it happened to take a life of its own.
> 
> Everything in this story happens after Civil War. I guess technically it's also post- Doctor Strange, but you don't need to know anything about that movie for this to make sense.
> 
> This is unbeta-d, so please pardon the typos. Any comments or criticism is welcome. I really loved writing this and would love to hear what you think!

“How long does it take for him to defrost?”

Groggy... he felt groggy. And very cold. Had he been asleep?  He tried to blink open his eyes but they felt heavy and stuck together.

“Not long, based on his history.”  This voice was different from the first. “Look, he’s stirring.”

“Bucky, stop it with the sleeping beauty act. We don’t have much time.” That was the first voice.  It sounded familiar.

He tried taking a deep breath, but the air felt cold in his lungs. That was his name - Bucky. This was different from all the other times. This time they had the right name.

Bucky opened his eyes—this attempt was easier—and saw he was in a different room from where he had been initially frozen. It was dark and windowless and felt like it was miles below the ground. In front of him two men were watching him. He was right—the first voice _was_ familiar.

“How long, Sam?” Bucky croaked. His voice barely escaped. He knew from experience that it was his throat that warmed up last. He slowly stepped out of the chamber as he flexed his remaining arm, glad that his muscles were already working.

“Eight months,” the man who wasn’t Sam responded. “How do you feel?”

Bucky mentally ran through his body, trying to feel for anything wrong. “Good. Cold.” His voice already sounded less hoarse. “What’s going on? Aren’t you supposed to be in prison?”

“Not anymore. I need your help.” Sam crossed his arms instead of elaborating. He looked like this was the last thing he wanted to be doing.

“What’s going on?” Bucky repeated as he set his jaw, because goddammit it, he needed to know more than that.

“We need your expertise.” He motioned for Bucky to start moving.

“We, who’s we?” Bucky said before he finally finished reaching room temperature. “Wait.” He looked around. “Where’s Steve?”

Sam started to walk away, but continued as if he expected Bucky to follow. “That’s the problem we need your expertise for. And just so you know, this wasn’t my idea. I want to make that very clear.”

Bucky didn’t move. “What do you mean, _that’s the problem_?”

Sam turned around. He looked exasperated. “I need you to follow me. I can explain as we go, but you are going to have to trust me when I say we need every second we can get.”

That was enough to get Bucky walking.

“Wait, we need to run tests, it’s not safe to be moving so-” The other man was running to catch up with him.

“No time!” Sam and Bucky said at the same time, not even bothering to turn around.

It took a second for his stiff body to catch up to Sam. “Ok, now we are moving. I’m going to say this for the last time—what’s going on?”

Sam, who looked like he was walking with a clear purpose, didn’t bother to look at him as he said, “It’s the Red Skull. He managed to get his face on TV, told the entire world he was looking forward to destroying them in graphic detail, and that he planned to start with Steve Rogers. That was three days ago.”

“He should be dead.” Bucky had always assumed he was dead. But that wasn’t the most pressing issue. “Does he have Steve?”

“We don’t know.” Sam checked his watch and sped up. “As soon as I saw it—and you couldn’t not see it, it was everywhere—I called Steve. We had all split up after he broke us out. Figured it would make it harder to track us. Would keep up safe.” He took a deep breath. “Anyway, I called him and he didn’t answer, which isn’t the most surprising thing. We’re fugitives, right? Sometimes you can’t answer the damn phone.”

“Right.”

“But he doesn’t get back to me. And then I tried our backup communication system, the one only for emergencies, and no luck there either. At first I wasn’t worried. For all I know this was just some crazy person pretending the be Red Skull and Cap let his phone die. Or something. But a day later-”

“So, two days ago.” Bucky confirmed. It was important he had all the information he would need.

“Yeah, two days ago, Nat calls me and says she can’t get a hold of him either. Which isn’t a big deal, it’s not like he was screening my calls or anything. But she actually sounds worried. Turns out she’s been doing the whole world’s greatest spy thing and had been keeping tabs on all of us. And she can’t find Cap, which is all sorts of concerning because Nat’s the best at this stuff.” Sam stopped and turned to look at Bucky. “Do you need clothes? You slept in that.”

“This is fine. What are we going to do now?” Bucky walked in front trying to move Sam forward.

“I was in Nairobi when all this was happening. Nat felt we might need you so here I am. The rest of the team is going to meet us here. Tony tracked the broadcast location to some island in the Indian Ocean.”

It was Bucky’s turn to stop. “Tony. As in Tony Stark?”

Sam jerked his head forward, motioning for Bucky to follow him. “Yes. Now I know some things went down with you guys, and I’m sure that is going to be all kinds of awkward, but Nat trusts him on this and I trust her. If he’s willing to put that all behind him, I’m sure you can too.”

He shook his head. “I’m not worried about me.” He paused. Bucky wasn’t sure how much Sam knew. “He’s not going to want to see me. I really don’t think—”

“He knows that you’re coming.” Sam turned and Bucky followed him into a large airplane hangar with an open roof. A plane—no, Steve had called it a quinnjet—was parked in the center and Tony Stark was leaning against it. Sam motioned at them. “Anyway, it’s too late to turn back now.”

Stark tapped his watch “You’re three minutes late.” Behind sunglasses, Stark looked bored. Bucky couldn’t tell if he had even seen him. He sure didn’t look like he had.

“Not my fault the guy was frozen solid,” Sam said with just smidgen of attitude.

“And yet I’m going to blame you anyway.” Stark turned to look at him. Bucky felt his body tighten as he prepared instinctively for a fight, followed by self-loathing. “So, what can you tell us about the Red Skull?”

It took a second for Bucky to realize he was being addressed. “He’s evil,” was all he could offer.

“We know that part.” Stark turned and begun to lead them onto the quinnjet. “What else? Anything about his motivations, how he operates, anything at all that you remember that we also can’t find in a history book.”

“He’s really, _really_ evil.” He racked his thoughts, trying to think of any important details. “He wants power. He can inspire a surprising amount of people to die for his pathetic cause. He has a flair for the dramat—”

“Don’t they all?” Sam interjected, rolling his eyes.

“And he really hates Steve.” Bucky finished.

Stark stopped on the ramp and turned around. “On a scale from mildly annoyed with his self-righteousness to wants to tear him limb from limb, where do you think Red Skull falls?”

Bucky felt the full force of Stark’s gaze. He wondered just where Stark fell on that scale. “Definitely limb from limb.”

Sam and Stark shared a look. “Any weaknesses?”

“I hear he always had a soft spot for blondes,” Bucky deadpanned.  They just stared at him for a beat before he felt compelled to add, “That was a joke.”

“Boys, you can gossip on the plane.” The Black Widow was standing with her arms across her chest, tapping her foot impatiently.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah...” Stark walked past her and Sam and Bucky followed as the ramp shut. Bucky recognized everyone staring at him from the airport in Leipzig.

Now the Widow, Bucky knew her from reputation long before she fought with Steve. That made him hate himself, too. She gave him a long look as she said, “Thanks for doing this.”

“Not sure I’m going to be any use like this.” Bucky shrugged the shoulder no longer attached to his metal arm.

“I have a feeling we are going to need all the help we can get.” The plane jerked as it took off and Bucky missed his arm as he lost his balance for a second. She smirked and motioned to the bench next to her. “Now take a seat.”

Sitting there, Bucky took a chance to take stock of the situation. Not including himself, there were four of them on the plane. Besides Stark, the Widow, and Sam, he could remember Clint from the airport.

Bucky tried to assess each of them, trying to remember how they fought and what they were capable of. He tried to listen to their quiet conversations between them, hoping to pick up on any details he didn’t know. In his experience, everyone prepared for missions differently. Some people rambled on, some got excited and jumpy, some became thoughtful. But it was alarming that now none of them were trying to lighten the mood. All of them were sitting—except Stark who was leaning on his arm, face first in the corner.

Stark hadn’t seemed angry at him, or even uncomfortable. And that was wrong. Between everything that Sam had said and the tense mood on the quinjet, it was Stark’s acceptance of his presence that worried him the most. Bucky, from the corner of his eye, watched him pull out a cheap cell phone from his pocket and look at it intensely before flipping it open and pressing a number.

It was a struggle, but Bucky was able to overhear what he was saying. “Steve. I’m about to lose reception on this worthless piece of crap. Would it have killed you to buy StarkTech?” Stark whispered. Bucky wouldn’t have heard him if he hasn’t been trained to hear these sort of things. “So, if this is some sort of elaborate prank, you have approximately a minute to stop it.” He took a deep breath, louder than anything he has said. “Otherwise, I guess I’m about to feel really stupid.” Stark hung up and glared once more at the phone. He looked like he hadn’t slept in a week.

It felt like forever sitting there. Bucky was distinctly aware that he didn’t know these people, didn’t _really_ know them, and that he didn’t belong here. He was more of a liability than anything else. It wasn’t the arm that worried him, though he’d feel better about fighting if he had it.

It was his mind that scared him. Bucky could be made into a weapon. He _would_ be made into a weapon. That’s how it always worked. And sitting there with all of these people who really cared about Steve scared him more. He didn’t want to hurt them.

“Five minutes till we make our descent,” said Clint.

The Widow stood up and grabbed a rail above her head for support. “So, we’ve been over this already. Based on what we could pick up via satellite, we have four possible entrances. Tony, Sam, Clint, you take your designated routes. Barnes, you’re with me. Everyone stay silent on your comms unless you have something worthwhile to add.”

“Yes boss,” Clint said as he stood up and braced for landing. “Got any words to inspire us?”

“We get in, we get Cap, and we go. Do what you normally do. And when what you normally do is dumb, listen to me,” Widow finished.

They touched down so softly that Bucky wasn’t really sure they had landed, but the rest of them were up and going, and he followed.

Bucky didn’t know what he was expecting, but a tropical island certainly wasn’t it. He was walking in white sand that led into the bluest water he’d ever seen. Behind him was a dense jungle that climbed up a steep mountain.

“Our best guess is that Red Skull is under there.” She pointed behind her at the mountain. “Your GPS should point you to where we think the entrances are. Any last questions?”

“Yeah.” Clint spoke up. “Is that an actual volcano? Seems kinda cliche.”

“It’s been dormant for over 400 years,” Natasha responded without inflection.

“Knowing our luck...” Clint trailed off, his eyes fixed on the top.

“Ok, are we done now?” Stark said impatiently. He was already in the armor. When had that happened? Without waiting for an answer, he lifted off.

The Widow sighed. “I was going to say ‘wait for the signal’. But that—that’s the signal.”

Without another word they split up. Sam followed Stark in the air as Clint began to run in another direction.

The Widow looked at him and began walking into the jungle in front of them. They walked silently through the heat. Bucky took the time to get a sense of where his center of gravity was without his metal arm. At first it felt strange walking without it, but he was slowly adapting and began to run through defensive moves he could still perform in his head. After some time she whispered, “Can you shoot with that arm?”

“Yes,” Bucky said, somewhat offended. He wasn’t new to this.

“Good. Then take this.” She handed him a gun. “You aren’t afraid to use it, I take it.”

“No.” He was more afraid of how right holding a gun felt.

“Very good. That’s why you’re with me.” She looked him in the eye, even though she was still walking. “If you got a shot, take it.”

They kept walking. The vegetation was getting hard to walk through, but even though the Widow never looked at anything except what was in front of her, it never seemed like she was unsure of where to go.

Bucky realized he needed to ask her something. “What should I call you?”

“Huh?”

They had reached some sort of large steel door that stood flush with the walls of the volcano. “Do you want me to call you Black Widow?”

She smirked. “Natasha is fine.” Natasha began to press around the edges of the door till she found what she was looking for. She pushed a vine back to reveal a classic ten-digit keypad. Without looking at anything else, she typed in a long code, and then moved to the door. It opened immediately.

“Ok. Natasha.” He paused. “Does something not feel right about this?”

“Nothing feels right about this. It shouldn’t be this easy to get in.”

“I mean, Steve can take care of himself. He doesn’t need the cavalry to come after him. With this big of a group we are just making a larger target,” he said as they entered a dark corridor. Bucky expected to be surrounded by cold stone, but instead it looked like a hospital hallway with the lights off.

“If it was up to me, it would be me, you, Sam, maybe Clint. People with even the slightest experience in being covert.” She stopped, visibly trying to hear something. She must not have heard anything because she started to walk again. “But you try telling anyone on that plane to stay home.” Bucky could do the math, and he had an idea she was talking about a specific person.

“It’s good to know that Steve still manages to inspire loyalty. I never got how he did that.”

Natasha just smiled. “Four days ago, a lot of people were pissed at him. Hell, I was pissed at him. We had a good thing going with the Avengers. And he has to screw it up with his principles.”

“He does that,” Bucky muttered. “Is Stark...?” He wasn’t sure what he was asking.

“I know what happened in Siberia.” Bucky didn’t doubt that she knew. He was pretty sure Natasha knew the last time he had taken a piss. She continued, “And I’m not going to say Tony’s over it. But I’m sure he’s thought about it, probably too much, and has found some way to make at least some of it his fault. But you’re going to have to trust me when I say he has Steve’s back. This whole situation is just eating at him. That’s why he’s here, even if he does wear a bright red suit I could see from a mile away.” She paused again to listen, and then moved on. “ _You_ are here because the two of us agreed we could use your help. We could use someone with your skill set. It gets exhausting being the only assassin on the team.”

“You expect it to come to that?” Bucky whispered.

“I don’t know what to expect. But if it does I’m not going to waste time debating the right and wrong of it,” she said the last part so quietly, Bucky barely heard her. He didn’t have a response

Bucky was sure he was considering all the same violent scenarios that Natasha was. Everything had happened so quickly after he woke up, and it was finally now that he was beginning to understand why everyone else felt so desperate. This whole mission felt haphazard and hastily planned. They were sitting ducks working like this. But Bucky was intimately acquainted with depths of how cruel the Red Skull could be. And as long as there was a sliver of a chance Steve was here, he’d keep walking into this trap.

They walked in silence until a sound, too quiet for Bucky to hear, emitted from Natasha’s ear piece. She frowned and began and began to run.

Bucky didn’t need to be told to follow her. “What is it?” he tried to shout without his voice carrying. It didn’t work too well.

“They found him,” Natasha replied, not making any effort to be quiet anymore. She was quick and focused, running with her gun held out in front of her.

Bucky didn’t need to know who she was talking about. “Where? Is he ok?”

But Natasha didn’t respond. Something loud was happening somewhere in front of them. Suddenly a uniformed man crashed through the wall 200 meters in front of them and landed with a thud in the middle of the hallway.

“What is wrong with him?” Stark, in armor, walked through the hole he must have created just as Natasha and Bucky caught up.

She looked down at the man, clearly unconscious. “Tony, he’s not going to answer you anytime soon.”

Stark was breathing so hard that it was visible even in the suit.

“Where’s Steve?” Natasha asked, clearly more calm than either Bucky or Stark felt.

“We can’t... He’s not responding. We don’t know what they did. He’s been hurt. It’s like he’s been tortured.” Bucky began to step though the hole in the wall as Stark continued to babble on.

Steve was sitting hunched over on the floor, chained to a to the wall by his hands and something large around his chest. It looked like he had at some point tried to shimmy his way out of it, with bad results. His face was bruised and swollen, which in combination with the old and dark blood that seemed to cover his most of his body like a second skin, made him look almost monstrous. This sight was so upsetting it took Bucky a few moments to see that some of the blood looked fresh and that Sam, who was crouched right next to him, was trying to remove the shackles all the while muttering, “Wake up, wake up, wake up.”

Bucky crouched next to Sam, trying to find any signs of life. When he couldn’t detect any breathing, he placed his ear on Steve’s blood-sticky chest. There it was—barely perceptible and definitely too slow—but a heartbeat none the less. One look at Sam confirmed this, and with a new-found motivation, he began to try and unlock the shackle on Steve’s other arm.

Bucky could pick locks one-handed, but whatever this was, it was beyond his skill. Luckily Natasha seemed to have realized what they were doing and joined them before calling out, “Tony, stop your tantrum and get here now. I think we need your expertise.”

Almost immediately, he was there, examining whatever technology was keeping Steve in place. Both Sam and Bucky stood up to give him the most room. “Is he?” Tony said, grabbing some sort of small tool from a compartment on his suit.

“He’s lost a lot of blood. Anyone else would be dead,” Sam said. “But Steve’s a stubborn sonofabitch. Though we shouldn’t take that for granted. He needs immediate medical attention.”

That seemed to spur Stark to move even faster. With a click he managed to unlock the left shackle and wordlessly moved on to the next one. Bucky watched, unable to move, even though a voice in the back of his head was loudly telling him that this was a trap. With Steve so close to death, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

It took a loud noise behind him to break his trance and look around. Natasha, who had fallen back to the hallway, possibly because she was also aware of the danger, was now fighting some man in the same uniform as the one Stark had blasted earlier. It took him another moment to move, but it was too late and a large group of them were filling the room. There were too many to fight one handed, and Bucky was quickly subdued. He tried to struggle as he was put in restraints, all the while watching as Stark tried to fight his own captors without stopping whatever he was doing to Steve’s shackles.

It was with a scream that he failed and was dragged away from Steve’s almost lifeless body. Sam and Natasha kept fighting, but their considerable skill wasn’t enough to free them from their also skilled attackers. Somewhere, over an echo-y loudspeaker, Bucky could hear a voice cackling. He felt blunt force against his head, and the world went dark just as he began to think— _that doesn’t sound like the Red Skull_.

 

\-------

 

Bucky woke up to a headache. One of those dull, throbbing ones coupled with a stiff neck that communicated you had slept in the wrong position. He opened his eyes and for a second stared at the ceiling before he remembered what was wrong with this moment.

He wasn’t cold. In fact, he was under a blanket. And he was in a room that didn’t look clinical. The sun was beginning to stream through the curtains. It sounded like the world outside was also just waking up.

He lifted his left arm into the air. It looked like flesh and bone. He could move his fingers without a sound. When he made a fist, he could feel the pads of his fingertips against his palm. Yet watching it move, he could tell it wasn’t real. The sense of feeling wasn’t as strong and seemed to have a second delay.

It was then that Bucky jumped out of bed. He rushed to the door before he remembered that he could be in some sort of prison. Instead he leaned his ear against the door and listened for something. When he didn’t hear anything, he slowly turned the handle and looked outside.

It looked like a normal, if small, living room. The proportions were eerily similar to the studio he shared with Steve back before the war but the decor was modern, if worn. He slowly walked around, trying to notice any detail that would explain exactly where he was and prepare him for the upcoming attack. He was beginning to circle the couch when he saw a familiar body lying on its side.

“STEVE!” Bucky lunged forward and twisted the body onto it’s back just as a fist hit him across the face. He staggered back and looked in disbelief at the man in front of him.

Steve looked shocked and babbled, “I’m so sorry. Are you ok?  I really... I didn’t know it was you. I can’t believe I did that. Are you ok?”

“You’re alive!?” Bucky didn’t believe this. But the man in front of him surely looked like Steve, but without the blood and bruising Bucky had seen minutes ago.

“What are you talking about? Of course- Are you ok? Do you have a concussion? Should probably take you in to see—”

“Are you really you? Are you really alive?”

Steve just looked confused. “Yes? Bucky, are you having nightmares again? What’s going on?” He lifted two fingers. “How many do you see?”

“You were dead. How are you here? I saw you. You were—”

“How many fingers am I holding up?” Steve commanded, refusing to even entertain Bucky’s line of thought.

“Two.” Bucky responded instinctively to his tone. “It’s going to take a lot more than a messy punch to confuse me.”

“Good. Ok.” Steve took a deep breath and sat back down on the couch. “You just scared me.”

“ _I_ scared _you_? You were dying.”

Steve just shook his head and looked concerned. “I’m clearly not. Was it a nightmare?” And then in a softer voice, “Do you want to talk about it?"

Bucky didn’t have anything to say to that. He tried to imagine a scenario where this was real, and everything that had happened before had been some sort of terrible dream. It did happen to have the strange sense of dread that seemed to permeate Bucky’s dreams.

But that was impossible. There was too much that had happened before that. Too many details that were too clear. And here, Bucky wasn’t even sure where he was and how he got here. This was clearly wrong.

But Steve was ok.

“What day is it?” Bucky asked.

“Friday.”

“No, I mean date. And year. Actually, that’s more important.”

Steve gave him a look like Bucky really should go get his head looked at, but responded anyway. “January 27th, 2017.”

“2017?” Bucky tried to count back. He didn’t actually know when he had woken up. Everything had happened so fast. But he did know that Sam had said it had been eight months. And he knew it had been May when he was frozen. It was harder to wrap his mind around the fact that it could be January—it certainly looked like January out the window. And he supposed he couldn’t have known before. They had been in Wakanda and on a tropical island, there was no reason to believe it couldn’t have been the dead of winter.

“Yes. January 27th, 2017.”

Bucky looked around. There had to be something that explained what was going on. “Why are we in our old apartment?”

“Bucky, this is _your_ apartment. I’m just staying—wait I’m sorry I know you said I could stay here while I figure stuff out but if you need me to go-”

“No, no. Why would you go?” Bucky looked around again. This was their old place, except for the bedroom. The door that led to the bedroom had before just led to a tiny closet. But everything else, from the windows to the style of tile in the small corner kitchen was the same. “Wait, I live here, alone?”

“Yes. Yes, you do. And I’m really sorry it’s taken this long to find another place. I know it must bother you, I completely understand. So, if you need me to go, you can tell me.” Bucky had no idea what he was prattling on about.

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you like.” Bucky wasn’t entirely sure of the specifics of the situation, but it didn’t matter. Steve would always have a place on his couch.

“Good.” Steve gave him a small, sad smile. “I know I need to move on. But as long as I’m here, as long as I’m not in my own place, there is still a chance, right?  A chance we can work things out?” And then quietly to himself he said, “I still miss her so much.”

Bucky couldn’t begin to understand what Steve was talking about, but he nodded anyway. He had guesses on who ‘her’ was, but Bucky was perceptive enough to know this was one of those things he was expected to already be aware of. He let that go and walked to the window.

His hunch was correct. They were in Brooklyn. Not all the buildings outside looked the same, but enough did that he could place them on the same street. Everything was modern, of course, but it still felt familiar. His mind wanted to accept this. Even this was a dream or the beginning of a new form of mental torture, it was also the closest thing to good he had felt in a long time.

He turned around and faced Steve, who was still sitting on the couch looking like he was trying to find signs of a concussion. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Thank you? Are you sure you’re ok? Don’t tell me you are doing this to get out of the dinner.” Steve had that tone of voice that said he was on the verge of being disappointed, but he believed the right decision would be made in the end.

“Wait, there’s a dinner? What dinner?”

Steve visibly rolled his eyes, walked to refrigerator, and removed a card from under a magnet. “You have been cordially invited by Stark Industries to be the guest of honor at the ‘Technical Advances for Veterans’ Dinner,” he read dramatically and then handed the invitation to Bucky.

Bucky looked the invitation over. It looked like the type of event that required you wear something nice. He scowled. “Why?”

Steve sighed. “Because it’s been a year.”

“A year since when?”

“Since you got the biggest step forward in functional prosthesis attached to your shoulder."

Bucky reflexively wiggled his left fingers. So, that confirmed it. It wasn’t real. “Ok...”

“Plus, it’s an excuse for Tony Stark to pretend that just because he owns the company that designed it, he’s more than billionaire playboy.”

“Stark? He made my arm?” That was unexpected. It seemed that nothing that was happening made any sense. “Well that was... big of him.”

“Of course. It’s really big of him to throw a fancy party to celebrate how great he is.” Steve said in that dry way that was almost certainly sarcasm, though you couldn’t always be sure.

Bucky looked at the invitation again, trying to gleam any information about the current state of things. But no, it was just an invitation. “Don’t tell me I’m expected to go alone to this?”

“You already told me I have to go with you so I can act as your ‘chick bait’.” He managed to sound disapproving and fond at the same time.

Finally. “That sounds like something I’d say.”


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn’t as though Steve hated dressing up for these formal parties as much as... no, he just really disliked it. He should have been done with this dog and pony show at by now. The only saving grace of this whole thing was that he was here for Bucky, who never seemed receive the same recognition despite being every bit deserving of it.

He could do this for his friend, he mused as they stepped out of the hired car. Though he would rather do it without all the pomp and circumstance.

The cold air hit him like it had mass and shape as Bucky went to shake the driver’s hand. Steve had all been ready to take a cab, but the car, no doubt hired by Stark Industries, showed up in front of Bucky’s apartment before they could hail one. Not like they couldn’t show up to a party like this something so plebeian as a taxi cab. “The man doesn’t spare no expense,” Bucky muttered under his breath as he stood next to Steve.

“It’s a waste,” he muttered back. All of this was. Celebrating the achievement of Bucky’s arm, that made sense. But throwing some outlandish party full of people who couldn’t have even known who Bucky was the wrong way to do it.

“Oh, come on, lighten up. It’s a free dinner. I don’t know about you, but I am going to enjoy myself.” And Bucky looked like he was going to do exactly that.

They began to walk towards the door when a beautiful redhead came up to them. “You must be Lt. James Barnes,” she said with complete certainty.

“Yeah.” Bucky motioned to Steve. “And this is Stev-”

“Captain Steve Rogers. It is a pleasure to meet you.” She went to shake his hand, looking him in the eyes with a bright smile. Steve immediately felt uncomfortable. It wasn’t her fault. Just that there used to be a time when no one knew who he was. Some days he missed it.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too.” He tried to think of polite ways to ask for her name, but couldn’t think of any.

She didn’t offer it to them. “Please follow me.” She led them though the party with poised determination. Steve was beginning to like her, if only because following in her footsteps seemed to keep everyone they passed from stopping him to ask for an autograph.

They were in a large ballroom full of tables surrounded a lacquered dance floor. Everything was illuminated in a soft orange glow as tiny lights dangled from the ceiling. A band in the corner played some old-fashioned jazz—not the type you heard in elevators but the type that was made to dance to. It was understated and elegant. This was certainly better than he was expecting, though his expectations hadn’t been high. He heard ‘Tony Stark’ and ‘party’ in the same sentence and assumed there would stripper poles.

The woman led them to a table near the dance floor. The room was beginning to fill up. Steve figured their entrance had been timed so they wouldn’t be milling around too long before dinner. “You’ll be sitting with Mr. Stark.” She gestured for them to sit down and then checked her phone quickly, pulling it out of her purse with such grace Steve barely noticed. “Good news is that he’s only a running a little late.”

“Pepper! How can I be late if the party doesn’t start till I arrive?” Tony Stark entered like he had choreographed the whole thing. Steve had seen enough magazine covers to know the man even without meeting him. In his experience, celebrities never looked as good in person as they did with the photoshop treatment.

Unfortunately, that maxim did not apply to Tony Stark.

Pepper gave him a disapproving look and then gestured to Bucky. “This is your guest of honor. Lt. James Barnes.”

Stark shook Bucky’s hand. “Yes! Good! How is the arm working?”

“Wonderful. It’s better than the last one. Thank you very much.” Bucky looked a little star-struck and almost scared.

“The last one?” Stark said with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah.” Bucky’s eyes went wide and he looked like he was going to begin to stutter. “The last prosthesis. This is way better.”

Steve frowned. This had been the first replacement for his real arm he had been willing to use. Maybe he _did_ have a concussion.

“And this is?” Stark transferred his attention to Steve. Maybe Steve had finally met the one person who didn’t know who he was.

Pepper provided the answer before Steve thought to speak up. “Captain Steve Rogers, you might know him as—”

“Captain America,” Stark finished with a full smirk and offered his hand. Steve tried to ignore the feeling of dread growing within him. Stark looked like he was going to have fun tonight, which could only mean jokes at his expense.

 _You’re here for Bucky_ , Steve repeated to himself.

“The kid from Brooklyn raised by a single mom who participated in the highly experimental and dangerous super soldier program so he could go and hunt down Bin Laden. Well... before he became a vocal anti-war critic.”

“I’m not an anti-war critic. I’m just critical of current military policies,” Steve tried to correct him, but most people seemed to forget that distinction.

“I’m not judging. I’m all about ‘make love, not war’. You know, it was my Dad’s vita-ray technology that made you possible.” Steve did actually know this, so he nodded his head politely. “When I heard the government was using it to make people into actual weapons... I mean I’m used to seeing them using his old weapons, but I stopped making them for a reason. But now we are weaponizeing people? It disgusted me. However, now that I get to meet you in person, I have to say.” He paused to give Steve an exaggerated once over before he said, “ _Thank. You._ _Dad_.”

Bucky snickered next to him. Steve felt a small thrill in the bottom of stomach, and then an overwhelming sense of disgust, mostly directed at himself. It was probably a combination of both feelings that made his face heat.

Steve was saved from having to respond to this leer by the waiter arriving besides them. “Would anyone like something to drink?”

“Vodka Martini,” Pepper said.

“Make that two,” Stark added.

“No, four,” Bucky said enthusiastically. “Steve, you want anything?”

Steve smiled. At least someone was enjoying themselves. “I’ll have what the table’s having.”

“Shall we sit?” Pepper motioned to the table beside them and Bucky jumped forward to pull out her chair.

“What a gentleman.” Pepper gave Stark a pointed look.

“You two are going to make my life difficult tonight, aren’t you?” he said with good humor. Steve secretly hoped it was going to be just a little bit difficult.

They were sitting at a small table with a large and flat floral arrangement on a huge circular silver plate. It seemed to accommodate just the four of them. Everyone else in the ballroom was also finding their seats.  Apparently Stark was right about the party not starting without him.

The waiter returned with their five martinis. Steve tried to take a sip just as Stark asked, “So how long have you two been together?”

A fourth of the drink spilled down Steve’s shirt. Bucky laughed and began to speak before Steve regained his composure. “Oh, we’re not together. He’s bait.”

“Bait?” Stark responded, smirking again.

“Imagine this scenario. Beautiful woman goes up to Steve and tries to talk to him. He stutters and I just swoop in, looking smooth in comparison. It’s foolproof.”

“Not a bad plan. Though I can’t imagine you’ll have much trouble tonight. Being a war hero in uniform and all.” Pepper looked almost smitten. Was she with Stark?

“So you’re saying that if I wore a uniform...” Stark trailed off, leaving his meaning clear.

“Still wouldn’t happen,” Pepper said with finality. Steve liked her.

“Ok, ok. So, we’ve established Lt. Barnes has his priorities straight. Is there a Mrs. Rogers?” It took Steve a second to realize what Stark was asking.

“No,” He responded quickly. It wasn’t till after he said it that he realized he could have deflected Stark’s interest by just telling the truth, even if it was only a technicality. Of course, he thought with a unhealthy amount of self-hatred, that’s why he lied.

Steve looked at Bucky, expecting him to at least discretely acknowledge the lie, but Bucky’s face didn’t change. Not that he would have disapproved. Bucky had been telling him for months now that it was time to accept he was getting divorced.

Steve wasn’t prepared to do so till he signed the papers next week, which was labeled on his phone as ‘See Peggy.’ So it wasn’t really a lie, but it cut too close to it for Steve’s comfort.

“Hmmm...” Stark responded with a leer. Steve felt even guiltier.

“So, Pepper.” Bucky leaned toward her, turning up the charm. He was always so much better at this. “How is it we get the pleasure of sitting with you today?”

“Are you asking if Mr. Stark and I are an item?” She responded coyly.

“Oh, Pepper’s too good for a rich, handsome man like me,” Stark interjected without a hint of sarcasm.

“Though he’s tried.” Stark just gave a shrug that communicated ‘do you blame me?’. “No, I’m Mr. Starks’s personal assistant. And you two, how is that two highly decorated war heroes became friends?”

Now this was a topic Steve could handle. “We grew up together. Bucky-”

“Bucky?” Stark interjected, incredulously. He turned to Bucky. “You let yourself be called ‘Bucky’. What year is it?”

“When a man has saved your life more times than you can count, he can call you by your childhood nickname as often as he wants.”

“And what should I call you?” Pepper asked. Steve didn’t have an eye for these things, but he was almost certain she was flirting.

“Whatever you want,” Bucky responded with a slight grin. It was silly to feel jealous, but Bucky certainly had a way with woman.

If only Steve had a way with anyone.

He began to feel uncomfortable sitting there watching the two of them, but he was also avoiding Stark’s eye. Which didn’t end up working, because Stark leaned over and said, “So, what are you going to do now that Bucky no longer needs you attract women for him?”

“Enjoy myself,” Steve said, even though he was doing anything but.

“That means you’re just sitting there thinking the Pledge of Allegiance on an endless loop, doesn’t it?”

Steve scowled at him. “I’ve never heard that one before. Normally people say ‘Star Spangled Banner’ or ‘God Bless America',” he deadpanned.

Stark just smirked, clearly amused. “Let’s play nice. Pepper always hates it when I interrupt her dates.” He drained his martini and instantly a waiter then came by with another. “So why did you agree to get shot up with dangerous chemicals?”

“You know the story. You said so.”

“A lot of people wanted to hunt down Bin Laden. You’re the only one who agreed to be used as a lab rat by the U.S. Government. So, I want to know what about _you_ made you do that?”

Steve didn’t have much of a response, so instead he tried to change the subject of the conversion by asking, “I don’t know. Why do you do anything?”

“Alcohol, mostly.” Stark lifted his glass. “Sometimes guilt, and sometimes sex. Often scientific discovery. It’s all of those more times than you’d expect.”

“That’s more complicated than my reason...” Steve was saved from having to finish that thought that when he heard some movement behind him, followed by loud screaming. Without a thought, Steve pushed Stark under the table and crouched low to see what was going on.

On the other side of the room ten men, dressed entirely in black sweats and balaclavas, were entering the room. A thick, bright pink smoke was following them slowly. Those closest were starting to cough. Steve ducked a little more under the table without losing sight of the entering men and whispered, “Go out the back. Slowly. Stay low.”

“And miss all the fun?”

“I’m not joking,” Steve hissed.

“Neither am I," Stark said while beginning to adjust something on his watch. Steve gritted his teeth and looked from Bucky to Pepper, who were also crouched under the table. A tall woman in a long dress, with hair that was a darker red then Pepper’s, had appeared beside them.

“Tony, Pepper, come with me,” The woman said, and slipped a gun from a thigh holster her dress was concealing. She handed it to Bucky and then looked at Steve. “You want one?”

“No.”

The woman nodded in acknowledgement and began to stealthily move but looked back when she realized Stark was still where he was, fiddling with some metal glove contraption on his hand. She glared at him, but he just smiled back. “Don’t worry about me. Take care of Pepper. We got this.” Stark looked so confident as he turned from them that it scared Steve. “So, it looks like the smoke is coming from a fixed location.”

Steve looked at Bucky and muttered, “ _We?_ ”

Stark just ignored them and kept talking. “If we can get behind them, we could turn it off. Possibly without having to fight all of them.”

“I’m not concerned about fighting all of them,” Bucky said while he examined the gun in his hand.

Steve took stock of the situation. The people who were not running away had passed out. He counted fifteen men, fanning out around the ballroom. They looked well-armed, and fit enough to be theoretically good at hand to hand combat. “It’s not fighting them I’m worried about. It’s that smoke. We need to find a way around.” He examined the exits, trying to find the best option. If they could leave the building it wouldn’t be hard to come up from behind.

“That one.” Stark stopped typing something into his phone and pointed at an entry way about five hundred feet away on their left. “We can get to the basement tunnels that way.”

Steve took another look around. It wasn’t that far, but they would be seen. He estimated that only one or two of the goons would be able to get to them before they reached the entry way, which they had no way of telling was secure. Steve thought they had pretty good odds.

There was an exit behind them, the one the redhead and Pepper had disappeared to, that was closer. “You sure that won’t work?” he asked Stark.

“Won’t get us behind the ninjas.”

“Might be safer if you go that way anyway.” There was no reason Stark had to put himself in harm’s way.

Stark looked at him like he was offended. “There might be some complicated machinery that needs to be disabled.” He shrugged, like even he saw how flimsy an excuse that was.

“I’m sure Bucky and I could handle it.”

“He comes with. We might need him,” Bucky said, with no room for disagreement based on the tone of his voice.

Steve sighed. This wasn’t going to make it easier. He looked around one last time examine the situation and then noticed the large silver plates below the table centerpieces. He had an idea. “Get behind me. And listen to what I say.”

“Ey Ey Captain,” Stark offered him as a sarcastic salute.

In a single motion, he stood up and reached behind him to grab the silver decorative plate, instinctively holding it as a shield. He heard shots fired, but just felt the bullets reverberate off the plate.

They had gotten half way to the door when the two goons Steve had already identified reached them. One tried to throw a punch, but he easily deflected and kicked their legs out from under them. Bucky quickly disposed the other one.

However, this gave a few more time to catch up. These guys had hand-to-hand combat training, but they were still slower than Steve and Bucky. However, speed couldn’t only account for so much when numbers were against you. And the goons seemed to be multiplying fast.

He ducked from a blow but was grabbed from behind by another. Steve used the leverage to kick the man in front of him with both feet, before flipping up and out of the other man’s grip and landing on his feet.

“Show off,” Steve heard Bucky mutter just as he looked back to see someone immobilizing Stark. He was already in a sprint when he saw Stark squirm followed by a bright flash of light. The goon was suddenly on the other side of the ball room and Stark was standing there, free and surprised.

There was only another one-hundred feet between them and their destination, but it was blocked by two more men. Steve made a quick calculation in his head and then threw the plate like a Frisbee at one of them. He was delighted to see it ricochet off and hit the other. There was a moment where Steve could just imagine it bouncing back to him, but instead it just fell to ground with a loud sound as they ran in.

On the other side of the door Steve could use his weight as a barricade while he considered their next options. They were in a small closet with no exit.

“How...” Bucky began, noticing it too.

“The dumbwaiter.” Stark motioned at a small metal cabinet just as Steve felt some sort of jolt on the door behind him.

“Ok. Bucky, you go first. I’ll hold them off.” Steve began to shimmy out of his suit jacket and shirt without losing contact with the door.

“What are you doing?” Stark asked with wild eyes.

“I need full range of motion. There’s a reason I don’t fight in a three-piece suit.” He braced himself just in time for the next push. “What are you waiting for- GO!”

Bucky was already shimming through the small compartment. Stark peered down. “This doesn’t seem like such a good plan...”

“Well it was _your_ idea.”

Stark didn’t have anything to say to that, so he just tentatively followed Bucky. Steve ran through the different scenarios that would happen once he was no longer holding the goons back. The dumbwaiter shaft looked tight enough that he wouldn’t be able to quickly jump feet first. They wouldn’t be able to enter all at once, but he’d have to disable some of them if he planned on joining the others. 

Once he heard a sound that must have been Stark hitting the bottom, he took a deep breath. In one fluid motion, he turned around and kicked the opening door, pushing back the three who were trying to enter. That bought him time to crawl head first into the confined space.

It was tight enough that he could only shimmy slowly, his feet still hanging out. Steve felt someone grab his shoe so he kicked up and was satisfyingly rewarded with the sound of pain. That gave him the time he needed to continue.

It was slow going and Steve was wishing he was just a few inches smaller around the shoulders.

But soon he was pulling himself out of the door.

“Took you long enough,” Bucky muttered. “How long do you think it will take for them to realize we're down here?”

“Oh, they already know. It’s just that way.” Stark pointed down the dark corridor they were standing in.

“Ok, lead the way.” They began to walk. “So, what was that back there?”

“This?” Stark waved his hand as he walked. “Repulsor Gauntlet. Been waiting a while to try it out.”

“I thought you were out of the weapons business?” Steve asked.

“It’s less a business and more of what I’d say... a hobby? It’s all for my personal use.”

“Interesting hobby,” Steve muttered as they turned a corner.

“Not everyone can spend their days saving kittens out of trees and bench pressing Toyotas.”

“I don’t bench press any cars for fun.” 

“Didn’t say anything about the kittens, though.” He stopped and looked around. They were at the end of a doorless corridor. “Hmmm... there should be another dumbwaiter here.” He put his ear to the wall and knocked.

Steve looked around, closely examining the situation. “So, we are directly underneath wherever that smoke is coming from.”

“Well, hopefully, we are behind it. But yeah. It’s above us.” Stark stopped knocking and considered Steve. He creased his brow. “You have a plan.”

“It’s risky.”

“Of course. The best kind.” Bucky smiled.

“If you.” Steve gestured at Stark, “Blast the ceiling, I could lift Bucky and you up through the hole.”

“And what about you?” Stark asked.

“I’ll jump.” He shrugged.

“You can jump that?”

Steve looked from the floor to the ceiling once more. “Yes.”

“I’ll go first.” Bucky slipped the gun into his waistband. “If no one’s up there now, they’ll certainly hear us if we blast the floor in.”

“You both are crazy,” Stark said, shaking his head.

“I’m not wearing an explosive I created in my spare time.”

“You make it sound like I’m an amateur, and not the world’s greatest living engineer.” He began to back away from the end of the hallway. “Ok, ok. Let’s do this.”

Bucky and Steve stepped away as Stark got ready to blast the ceiling. “3... 2...”

BOOM.

Steve didn’t wait for the dust to settle but instantly got into place. Without having to know Bucky was there, Steve aided him in his running start and immediately heard gunfire after Bucky jumped. Steve looked at Stark. “Your turn.”

Stark took a deep breath and muttered, “Next time I’m bringing the jet boots,” before taking a running leap. They hadn’t practiced this at all, unlike him and Bucky, but Steve managed to compensate and provide enough lift that he made it through the hole. Then, without a moment’s hesitation, he crouched low and jumped up to grab what was left of the floor.

He began to pull himself up when a foot landed on his arm.

A faceless goon sneered, “Going somewh-” but was cut off when a flash of light hit him. Steve looked up to see Stark standing there, smiling.

“I could have handled that,” Steve said as he stood up. It looked like most of the fighting up here was over, with Bucky dealing with the remaindering two men on the other side of the room.

“And yet Rogers, you didn’t.”

“It’s Captain Rogers to you,” Steve snapped. But that was a little harsh, so he added, embarrassed, “Or Steve. you could call me Steve.”

Tony squinted his eyes, like Steve was speaking in some foreign language he was trying to decipher. “You can call me Tony.”

“Well Tony, the machine has to be through there, right?” He pointed at the only door remaining. Behind him Bucky was still fighting one of the men. “Bucky, stop playing with him.”

Steve heard the man crash to the ground before Bucky said, “Whatever you say, Cap.”

They opened the door. The large mechanical contraption was at the end of the room in another doorway still spilling out the hot pink smoke. Which, luckily for them, was aimed at the other direction. Small miracles. Steve closed the door, took a deep breath, and then opened it again.

Tony made a beeline to the machine while Bucky and Steve braced to fight whoever was remaining.  Except no one was. They looked around warily, trying to find some sort of clue as to where the faceless men in black had gone, but there was nothing.

“That’s a wrap,” Tony said as he stood up and looked around. “Though we should leave while this stuff dissipates.”

They walked through a set of large doors on their right which led outside. They could finally take deep breathes.

Tony wavered and Steve grabbed his arm. “You ok?”

“You know, I normally have to pay to get this wasted. You two know how to have a good time.” He said with a weak smirk and slowly sat himself on the floor.

Bucky sat down to join him and said, “Next time we’ll make sure to invite you, and not the other way around.”

“That would be nice.” If Steve didn’t know better, he would have said that Tony sounded genuine.

But he did know, so he kept the smile on his face from turning into a full grin. Police sirens began to sound from a distance. “I wonder why this happened,” he mused, but Tony and Bucky just kept sitting there, looking sleepy.

The first responders pulled up and immediately began to rush up the stairs. “Here!  These two need paramedics!” Steve said in a loud clear voice.

“You feel fine?” Tony looked confused.

“My metabolism makes it hard.”

“Steve doesn’t get drunk,” Bucky said in way of explanation.

Paramedics began to swarm around them, checking their vitals.

Steve felt useless. “I’m going to go in and help out in there.”

Bucky got up, swaying slightly. “I’m coming with.”

They both looked at Tony, who was leaning on a paramedic that was leading him to an ambulance.

“Really could have used a gas mask. He didn’t even think about it.” Bucky said as they turned around.

Steve looked once more over his shoulder. He said to himself, “He’ll be ok.” Because suddenly, that really mattered.

\----------

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., tell Pepper I need her,” Tony said to the ceiling.

“She can hear you, boss,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. responded. Tony would never stop being proud of how real she sounded.

He glared at the hallway and raised his voice. “Oh really? Then why isn’t sh-”

“Here at your beck and call?” Pepper responded as she walked in, looking annoyed. She faced him with her hand on her hip. He may have gone too far. “What do you need?”

“I want to be in the workshop.”

“And yet, here you are.”

“Yes, because you have conspired to imprison me in my own penthouse. That’s cruel. You’re cruel.” Tony pouted. He felt fine and this was getting incredulous. When he returned this morning, spending the day on the couch almost seemed like a good idea. Now it had been, what two hours? He was itching to make modifications to the gauntlet, in addition to trying taking another stab at the jet boot prototypes.

“I’m not conspiring about anything. You were only released because you promised to stay in bed all day.” Somehow, she managed to be both exacerbated and composed at the same time.

“Oh, come on, you know I lied.”

“Yes. Yes, I do. Which is why you will do the next best thing to laying in bed. You have your tablet. WIFI. F.R.I.D.A.Y.. It’s not like you can’t work up here just fine.”

Tony tried to will her to change her mind. All those things were fine and dandy, but goddammit he couldn’t test any new tweaks to the repulsors up here. Pepper had a firm rule on keeping the explosions in the basement.

There was once a time where Tony would have bristled (whatever that meant) at the idea of someone bossing him around like Pepper did. But once you reach a certain age, he mused, you began to understand that some people were better at doing things than you were, and you should trust their guidance. Astrophysics, rocket science, nanotechnology - these were things Tony knew better than pretty much anyone else alive. But when it came to keeping him alive and functioning, Pepper was the leading expert on the subject.

“Whoever gave you the ability to conspire with my AI and lock me out of my own workshop?” Tony asked, mostly faking his angry tone.

“You did, boss,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. answered when Pepper just gave him an _oh, please_ look.

“I must have been drunk. That sounds like a thing I’d say when I was drunk,” he muttered. It was rhetorical anyway. He would have to be downright stupid to not put his trust in Pepper.

Yet F.R.I.D.A.Y. answered anyway. “You were very drunk.”

Tony rolled his eyes, exaggerating the affect to make sure F.R.I.D.A.Y. saw.

Pepper sighed. “If it makes you feel better, your bedrest means I can’t make you do all the work you owe me, too.”

“What do you mean- I’m a captive audience. Wait? Why aren’t you making me sign forms and teleconference into meetings?”

“Because _I_ plan on keeping my promise. So, take it as a small mercy and _please_ ,” She stressed the word, “Leave me alone.”

“Pepper, I mean it, you’re the best. You should be the one in charge.” Tony stopped and thought about the idea for a minute. “Actually yes, you really should.”

Pepper just rolled her eyes, clearly not taking him seriously and walked away. Tony stared at the spot she was just standing in and frowned. That was a good idea.

The problem wasn’t that he couldn’t work up here. There was code for a StarkPhone OS upgrade he could be reviewing (well, perfecting). No, the problem was that now that he was awake and could walk under his own volition, he couldn’t stop thinking about last night. Without something to tinker with, the next best thing was alcohol and Pepper had a lock on that too—literally.

F.R.I.D.A.Y. and Pepper were a scary combination. Not that he didn’t intend that when he based the AI’s capabilities and mannerisms on Ms. Potts.

Tony laid down on the couch. His mind was moving too fast to be effective at anything he couldn’t blow up, so he was left to process the evening. Processing was a thing emotionally healthy people did, right?

Of course, replaying the night was its own sort of confusion. Tony’s memory was no slouch, but he still found himself trying to remember certain moments and finding he was missing details.

And then, because he was brilliant, he had an idea. “Hey, F.R.I.D.A.Y.. How hard would it be to access the security cams from last night?”

“Would you like to see all the feeds or just the ones staring yourself?”  Man, she was cheeky.

“Oh, do I really have to answer that?”

As a way of response, the 80-inch television turned on and began playing black and white footage of Tony entering the ballroom.

Damn, next time he went to a party he was going to demand color video. As movies went, this wasn’t very interesting. The angles were all wrong and unflattering, and didn’t provide anything he hadn’t already seen.

“Well that was a waste of time.” He frowned. Was this bed rest thing for the 24-hour period or just till the end of the day? “Parse through that and send any especially flattering stills to the usual channels. Can’t disappoint the fans.” He paused as he watched different images from the night before come up on the screen. “Yeah, these look good- no wait. Pause.” On the screen, Steve was bracing himself against a door while stripping. “On further thought let’s keep those for the personal archives. I’m sure Captain Rogers doesn’t want to be an internet sensation.”

When F.R.I.D.A.Y. was done, Tony laid back down, trying to think of things he could build with what was in the kitchen. When he couldn’t think of anything he spoke out loud, “F.R.I.D.A.Y., call Captain Rogers.”

He was answered by a soft ringing sound and then a click. Tony immediately said “Are they making you lay down? Because this sucks.”

“Who is this?” A female British voice responded.

“I must have the wrong number.”

Tony began to motion for F.R.I.D.A.Y. to cut off the call when the woman said, “Are you looking for Steve?”

“Steve Rogers? Yes, actually. Wrong area code?”

“No, this is the right number. He just doesn’t live here anymore.”

Tony scoffed, incredulous. “Wait—is this a _landline_?”

“Yes, why does that even ma—”

“A landline? I didn’t know they even made those anymore. Wow. So, who are you?”

“I’m his ex-wife, and yes they do still make landline telephones. Is this about last night? Because if you want a comment or something I can’t help you. If I give you his number will you leave me and my telecommunication devices alone?” She sounded pissed.

“Can do,” he said without bothering to reach for a pen. What were highly intelligent AIs for?

When she hung up, Tony directed F.R.I.D.A.Y. to try and call again with the new number.

Though this time he waited for whoever was on the other line to answer.

“Hello.” That was definitely Steve.

“Are you bored? I’m really bored.”

“May I ask who is speaking?”  So polite.

“Oh, it’s Tony. I was wondering if you were going crazy too.”

There was silence on the line for a second. “Why would I be going crazy?”

“You didn’t promise your scary personal assistant to stay on the couch all day?”

Steve made a sound that sounded like relief. “No, I didn’t. But I don’t have a personal assistant, let alone a scary one.”

“That sounds nice. Though maybe Pepper would think about switching jobs. You don’t have a billion dollars just laying around, do you?”

Tony could hear him chuckle on the other line. “No, I don’t.”

“Shame. Guess she’s just going to have to stay with me,” Tony said, not feeling at all sad about it.

“I take it you’re feeling better?” Steve asked. Tony would swear the guy was smiling, even on the other side of the phone.

“Definitely better. I’ve had hangovers worse than this.” Tony paused to consider. “Actually, a lot of hangovers worse than this. I wouldn’t get anything done if ‘fitness to work’ was taken into account. I should tell Pepper that.”

“I’m sure she’ll listen.”

“So, you feel fine? Like nothing happened?”

“I feel tired...” he began, “But yeah, I feel fine. I told you last night, I don’t get drunk. So, I guess that means I don’t get hungover.”

“I can’t tell if that’s tragic or amazing. Tra-mazing.”

“Also, I wasn’t the one who disabled the machine while smoke blew in my face,” Steve said in a quiet voice.

It wasn’t in Tony to take that with any sincerity. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m your hero. I totally get it.”

“I didn’t say that.” The guy had the gall to be defensive.

“No, don’t try and take it back. F.R.I.D.A.Y. is recording. I’ve got proof.” Then he had an idea. “Where are you right now?”

“How is this relevant? And are you taping me? You can’t just record-”

“It’s entirely relevant. Where are you?”

“Running in Prospect Park, why do you-”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., find Captain Rogers.” An image of Steve running came on the television screen. “How are you not even sweating?” When Steve was didn’t respond, he added, “I’m asking you, not F.R.I.D.A.Y..”

“How are you watching me? I’m not sure I’m okay with that.”

“Well, let’s just say when you’re the leading expert on satellite technology, it gets pretty easy to hack into what you want.”

“Now I’m definitely not okay with that.” Steve sounded angry. That wasn’t good.

Tony let out an exaggerated sigh. “Well if you say so. F.R.I.D.A.Y., stop the feed. You happy now?” Then he decided it was time to change the subject to something more playful then surveillance. “Do you really have a landline?”

“YOU CALLED MY HOME?” Ok, changing the subject may have not been the best idea.

“I was trying to get a hold of you. And turns out you are so old fashioned that you are _actually_ in the phone book. Who does that?”

The windy background noises stopped, so Steve must have stopped running. “Did you talk to-?”

“Your ex-wife? Yes, she seems great. Unless you hate her. Then she was horrible.”

“She _is_ great.” Steve said wistfully. “She said ‘ex-wife’, huh?”

“Yeah, does that matter?”

Steve paused, and when he spoke he sounded less sad and more tired. Worn out. “It doesn’t.”

Tony grew uncomfortable with the tone this conversation was taking and decided to grab it by the horns. “I don’t care about that. What I do care about is why the hell you had a landline. Do you know what year it is?”

“Why do you care about this?”

“I make some of the best phones in the world. And I haven’t made a landline in a decade.” He paused, feeling indignant. “Wait, are you using a StarkPhone?”

“No. It’s a Samsung.” Steve sounded proud. “It’s a flip phone.” Well now he just sounded smug.

Tony was legitimately angry. “Ok. That’s it. This conversation is over. I need to hang up. This is a complete disaster. I can never speak to you again. This is never going to work o—”

“Please no. Just stop. Take some nice and long deep breathes.” Steve was laughing, the bastard. “I lied. Well about the flip phone, it’s still a Samsung. It’s last year’s model. You can calm down now.”

So, that was a joke. Tony stared up at the ceiling. His penthouse felt huge, lonely, and cold. And he was restless. That was probably why, instead of saying something suave, he blurted out, “We should go out sometime.”

Steve got quiet. “Huh?”

“Or you should come over. I’ve got jet boots. I can show you my jet boots.”

“Like.... Like a date?” He sounded scared. That wasn’t good.

Tony tried to sound cool. “Well if that’s not your thing—”

Steve spoke up. “I didn’t say no”

“To a date?”

“To coming over. As a friend.” He said the last part just a little bit too loud.

Tony thought about that. It wasn’t how he wanted this to go, but it was better than the flat-out rejection he was expecting. He stood up to stretch and began to pace around when a wave of weakness hit him.

Ok, so that was why he wasn’t allowed in the basement. That was probably for the best. “Good! So, I think today is a no-go. But I’ll see when I’m free and have my people call your people.”

“I told you, I don’t have a person-”

He sat down and took a long exaggerated breath. “It was a figure of speech, ok?”

“Sometimes that stuff flies over my head.” Steve‘s voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m sorry, I got to go. It was nice talking to you.”

“Likewise,” Tony answered, after Steve hung up. “F.R.I.D.A.Y.?”

“You are free tomorrow after twenty hundred hours. Should I put Captain Rogers on the list of approved visitors?”

“Yes. You’re the best. Have I told you that?”

“All the time, boss.”

Exhaustion was beginning to overtake him as he laid there, so instead of texting himself, he just said, “F.R.I.D.A.Y., tell the Captain that he can come over after eight.”

Tony laid there on the edge of sleep, so he wasn’t sure exactly how long it took for F.R.I.D.A.Y. to respond that Steve had accepted his invitation. 

“Good,” he muttered to himself. “Tell him—oh hell—tell him it’s a date.” And then promptly passed out.


	3. Chapter 3

“God Dammit!” Bucky swore under his breath. It was his tenth failed attempt at entering the right password. He had searched every nook and cranny of the apartment, but he hadn’t been able to find out any more information about the current state of his life. All he knew was that he was indeed living the same apartment (plus a bedroom) that he shared with Steve before the war.

So he wasn’t sure if he had a job or a girlfriend or if any of his family was alive in this reality. There weren’t any pictures around the apartment except one on the fridge of Steve, Sam, and him dressed to the nines, laughing about something at a swanky party.

The only other thing he did find also gave him more questions than answers. There was a handgun stored at the bottom of a small safe in his closet, which luckily had been programmed to his mother’s birthday. But other than that, there were no numbers stored in the phone he found next to his bed or uniforms hanging in his closet. All he knew about himself in this new... whatever, was that he still lived in Brooklyn, was still friends with Steve, and apparently felt the need to keep a gun.

Bucky sighed and began typing in “LetsGoDodgers” when he heard footsteps on the hallway stairs.

“Sometimes that stuff flies over my head.” Steve’s voice, which dropped to a whisper. “I’m sorry, I got to go. It was nice talking to you.”

The key rattled in the lock before Steve walked in and poured himself water in the kitchen. “Good run?” Bucky asked, having given up on all Dodgers related password options.

“Yeah,” Steve said with a dazed look as he sat down on the couch and took a long sip. He seemed to be contemplating something. Bucky had had enough experience with Steve to turn back to the computer and begin trying word combinations involving his favorite actresses. It was a while when Steve spoke up again. “Do you ever feel like there must be something wrong with you?”

Bucky thought about that for a second. _Well I’m living in some sort of idealized alternate reality where my best friend sleeps on my couch and I don’t seem to have to go to work, and that doesn't even include the frozen brainwashed assassin thing,_ he thought. “Depends on the day...Wait, why?”

Steve’s eyes widened. “No reason.” He had always been a terrible liar.

That’s why Bucky said. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“It’s nothing.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself of that and that was interesting. Bucky just gave him a look in return, though the effect of it was interrupted when Steve’s phone vibrated. He looked down at it and furrowed his brow with a loud sigh before setting the phone down without replying. “Tony Stark called me today.”

Bucky wasn’t sure if Steve was trying to change the subject or if that was the subject. It wasn’t like he was going to get a real answer to his earlier question, so he decided to go with it. “He ok? He looked pretty beat up last night.”

“Oh, he’s fine. I just think he was just bored.”

“So, he called you?” Bucky thought about it for a second and remembered Stark’s comments from the night before. “Wait- did he attempt to proposition you again?”

Steve blushed. “No!” But it sounded like a ‘yes’ and that was _very_ interesting. “He just wanted to know if I was okay. And then asked if I could come over.” He said the last part like he was trying to make it into afterthought, which meant it sounded very deliberate instead.

“And you said.....?”

“I don’t know.” Steve leaned back and stared at the ceiling. “I probably shouldn’t do it. It’s a bad idea.”

“It seems like you are overthinking this.” And that was the weirdest thing about this situation. Steve generally didn’t suffer from self-doubt. Unless it involved romantic situations and...

That was it. _This_ was a romantic situation. Bucky tried to wrap his brain around that. It wasn’t so much that Steve could be into men. Bucky’d had inklings on the subject since Steve couldn’t stop talking about some classmate of theirs in the sixth grade. But you didn’t ask your friends these things in 1933 and Bucky never figured out a way to frame the question that didn’t sound like an accusation. So, he left it as an assumption in the back of his mind, one that would probably never be confirmed.

But this was 2017, and it was possible that this alternate reality Steve could openly like, let alone date women and men. For the twentieth time today, Bucky wished he had a primer for this new life of his. Maybe this version of himself was already supposed to know the answers to these questions. It would certainly save him a lot of potentially awkward conversations.

“You’re right.” Steve muttered and began to type something out on his phone.

“Of course I am. Wait- this is about the over-thinking stuff, right?”

Steve must have sent whatever he was agonizing over, because he pointedly placed him phone down with a satisfied nod. “Okay, it’s done.”

“You’re going?” Bucky tried not sound surprised. The weird thing wasn’t that Steve could possibly be agonizing over a maybe-date with another guy. No, the weird thing was that the other guy was Tony Stark. Bucky didn’t actually know much about their relationship prior the whole Siberia incident. But that was enough to give him a very specific impression, and that was opposite of whatever was going on now.

“Yeah.” His phone buzzed and he picked it up, read whatever the message was, and immediately blushed. 

“That him?” Bucky asked.

Steve just have a loud sigh. “This is a very bad idea.”

The doorbell rang, startling them. Bucky gave Steve a look, wordlessly asking if it was for him. Steve just shrugged in response, so Bucky got up to go see who was downstairs. But before he did, he turned around and said, “Think of it this way- the worst thing that could happen is you get a tour of Stark Tower. Probably millions of dollars’ worth of art in there that you can’t see in a museum.”

Bucky wasn’t sure who he was supposed to be expecting on the other side of the door, but it probably should have been Natasha. She looked like she expected to see him there, a sly smile on her face as she peered in to the room.

“Hello Captain.” She said, speaking right past Bucky.

Steve imminently got up and went to shake her hand. “We met last night, right? I didn’t catch your name.”

“Natasha, and it’s an honor.”

“Well thank you Natasha for everything you did to get Ms. Potts to safety.”

“It’s what I do. Thanks for taking out the bad guys.” She turned to Bucky, finally acknowledging his presence. “Can I speak with you?”

Bucky nodded in agreement and followed her out into the hallway. She gave him a long once-over.  “So....”

“So, there is no easy way to put this, so I’m just going to say it and you can tell me if I’m crazy.” She began. “Did you wake up yesterday as confused as I did?”

“It’s not just me, huh?”

She smiled in response. “Good. This isn’t a hallucination.”

“Or we are having some kind of joint hallucination.” Bucky offered, because at this point he wasn’t sure.

“And he’s really alive and ok?” Natasha asked, ignoring his comment. She looked at the door, seeming like even looking in Steve’s general direction was comforting.

“Here at least.” He paused for a second, considering something. “I’ve been trying to convince myself that this is real, and everything before was some terrible nightmare.”

She managed to say _that’s not how the world works_ with a carefully raised eyebrow before saying, “I’m not sure what is going on, but I have a few theories-”

“Care to share them?”

“Not yet. But I want to see the others, find out if they are okay, and if anyone else is aware of what’s going on. But I’ll keep you in the loop as I do it.” She pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket and handed it over. “You can call me here if something happens.”

Bucky studied the number, memorizing it just in case. “Are you going somewhere?”

“It seems like the Avengers are scattered around. And I can’t just call them up and ask them if they remember storming a volcano.” She said this in a way that made it sound completely obvious.

“How do know you that?”, he said. _How do you know anything?_ , he thought.

“Apparently, I’m working Tony’s security as a ruse to gather intel on him for S.H.E.I.L.D..”

“And you know this… how?” Bucky said, trying to get to the point.

Her face scrunched up in confusion. “My computer- and then I hacked S.H.I.E.L.D., and then the Stark databases-”

“Slow down. You knew your password?”

“You don’t know-” She stopped herself from finishing and then sighed. “You never had to use a computer before, huh?”

“Why would I?” He left _I’m a frozen brainwashed assassin_ unsaid. “I have no idea if I’m supposed to be at a job right now. Or anywhere else.” 

She seemed to take pity on him because she said, “Let me check it out for you. All I could figure out was that you were here. But I’ll tell you if I find anything else.”

“Thank you.” She nodded, casting another glance at the door, and then beginning her way down the stairs. Bucky suddenly had an idea. “Can I come with you?”

“Now?”

“No, when you go looking for people. That is, if there isn’t some place I’m supposed to be at.”

Natasha took her time considering it before she answered, “I’d like that. I need a couple days to sort through some more information, but I’ll pick you up when I leave.”

She left without saying anything else. Bucky walked back into the apartment, still repeating the number in his head.

“Hmmmmm...” Steve was smirking. “You must have made quite the impression last night.”

It took Bucky a second for his mind to catch on to what he was implying. “Oh... this?” He held up the piece of paper with Natasha’s number. “Guess I must have.”

 

\--------------

 

The lobby of Stark Tower was a massive, bustling, and bright open space with ceilings that must have been hundreds of feet tall. Even this far into the evening, everyone was walking around like they were late for a very important meeting or were on the edge of a major scientific discovery, and had no time for Steve Rogers, who standing confused amidst all of this.

Steve really liked it.

There was a circular desk in the middle of the lobby were five different uniformed staff answered questions and directed people to the different elevator bays. Steve took a deep breath and walked up to one of them. There was no point of backing down now. He wasn’t doing anything wrong, right?

“Excuse me, miss? I’m here to see Tony Stark.” She looked at him like he was trying to tell a joke, and not succeeding. “He’s expecting me.” He added, just in case that helped.

By the look on her face, it didn’t, but something beeped in her earpiece and she said as she stepped out from behind the desk, “Right this way, I’ll escort you to Mr. Stark.”

She led him to an elevator with a plush couch and liquor cabinet in the corner. It wasn’t until the doors closed that he realized there were no buttons to push. He was about to move the couch, just to see if it was covering anything important when the elevator began to move.

A woman’s voice filled the elevator. “Welcome to Stark Tower, Captain Rogers. Mr. Stark is currently in his basement workshop. Please have a seat. We will be there shortly.”

“Who are you?” Steve asked, directing his voice towards the ceiling.

“My name is F.R.I.D.A.Y., and I am here to assist you.”

“Are you one of Tony’s personal assistants?”

She paused. “I guess so.” The elevator stopped and the doors began to open. “This is your stop.”

Steve gingerly stepped out and looked around. Just like the lobby, everything was glass and steel, with the feeling of being surrounded by foot thick concrete walls.

The hall in front of him seemed to lead to countless glass rooms filled with different machines and contraptions. Steve began to walk alongside them, peaking in, but by the time he passed a dozen or so rooms he began to feel like he was intruding. There was no sign of Tony anywhere.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” Steve asked the ceiling, hoping that she would still hear him this far away.  “Where is Tony?”

“I will lead him to you if you follow the sound of my voice.” He could hear her speaking down the hall, and followed her instructions. Every hundred feet or so she would pipe up, never right above him but close enough he could hear the direction she was speaking from, and tell him to keep walking. And then suddenly, he couldn’t hear her voice over the sound of loud rock music.

“Should I keep going?” He screamed, even though he assumed she couldn’t hear him.

So, he was surprised when the music shut off and F.R.I.D.A.Y. said, “Boss, Captain Rogers is here.”

Tony popped up from behind a counter where he must have been working on something. He was wearing a torn white shirt and a pair pf baggy jeans, both liberally smeared with grease. “He’s here?” Then he saw Steve and said, clearly disappointed, “You’re here.”

Well, that was a punch to the gut. “Did the I get the day wrong?”

“Oh no!” Tony said as he placed picked up a set of tools off the floor. “I’m sure if your here, you are supposed to be here.” And then he crooked his head, annoyed and said “F.R.I.D.A.Y., you were supposed to warn me.”

“I did, Boss.” That was the voice from the ceiling suddenly right there, all around them.

“Clearly you didn’t, otherwise I wouldn’t be dressed this way. Otherwise I would have showered.” He shot Steve a _can-you-believe-this_ look and Steve could in turn feel the look of confusion that was overtaking his face.

“I gave you an hour warning. Whether you were listening is your fault.”

Tony scoffed and reached for a rag to rub off whatever grease that had made its way onto his skin. “I guess this means you’ll be getting the full Stark Labs experience.” He gestured to his tattered clothing and then walked over to a cabinet on the wall and began to pour himself something. “Do you want a drink?”

“Do you have beer?”

“How manly of you.” He grabbed a bottle out of a small refrigerator and handed it to Steve.

Steve looked around the room as he took a sip. The room was filled with tables piled high with half-built machines and tools. As he began to wander around the immediate vicinity, he checked out each table and guessed what was being built. Tony just stood there with his drink and did not offer any explanations. When he reached the counter Tony had popped up from behind, he crouched down to see two shoe soles. “Is this what you were working on?”

“Those are the new jet boots.” Tony responded, wearing a self-satisfied grin like he got a kick out of Steve’s confusion.

Well, he was confused. “These-” Steve picked them up. They were heavier than they looked. “-are jet boots?” They looked like shoe inserts. The non-jet variety. All he got was a grin in response, which he took as a yes. Well, that was neat. “Can I try them?”

It was Steve’s turn to feel smug when Tony asked, “You want to try something highly experiential that has a high likelihood of injuring you?” But his eyes lit up after he said it and he added. “I guess that’s your life story. Yeah, sure you can try them. They aren’t ready yet, but if you promise not to sue me, why not?”

Steve grimaced. “Trust me, I’ve had my fill of lawyers.” He looked again at the thin pieces of metal. “So how do I put them on? Where are the other pieces?”

Tony just grinned, like he knew a great secret. “I’ll show you, but not here. I got a place for trying this stuff.” He started walking away, which Steve took as a cue to follow him through the workshop. Tony didn’t look back to see if Steve was behind him and continued talking like he didn’t have to. “So, this my own personal workshop. Most of the R&D is done in California, but we have space for visiting researchers.” They turned a corner and walked into an open-air room that had the same tall ceilings as the lobby.

“This is all yours.” Steve said it half way between a question and a statement.

“I needed a place to try things out.”

“Is this related to your weapons hobby?”

Tony finally turned around to look at him. “They are personal explosion devices. _Not_ weapons.”

“Oh, of course.” Steve said with the slightest sarcastic tone. “Still, it’s a pretty expensive hobby.”

“You can only have so many cars.” Tony responded, like that explained everything. He motioned the metal plates in Steve’s hands. “Put those down. Yeah, like that. And then step on…”

Steve did as he was told, but as soon he lined his feet on the metal plates, his foot was encased in a firm metal-like fabric.

“I wanted them to be light and easy to carry around. Ideally, they should fit on feet of all sizes. Also, they should be comfortable to wear, _and stylish to boot_.” He finished with a chuckle, clearly amused with himself. “Impressed?”

“Confused.” Steve responded as he walked around and tried to get a feel for the boots. The soles were certainly solid, and it felt odd on his feet, but they weren’t uncomfortable. “Where are the jets?”

Tony threw a pair of gloves and began to attach some clunky boots to his own feet. “These are the proof of concept.” He indicated what he was talking about by lifting his own foot before putting on gloves of his own. “What you got there is the latest prototype. Never been tested.”

“Should I be scared?”

“Are you?”

Steve didn’t hesitate. “No.” 

“Good. You control power like so.” Tony demonstrated by tapping his right gloved wrist. He slowly lifted off the ground. “You can use your hands to reright yourself by-” He bent his wrists so that his palms were parallel with the floor, and lifted even higher. “Well by doing this.” And then he was flying.

Even before Steve followed his actions, he could feel himself grinning. He expected to feel whatever was levitating him below his feet, but instead it was just like floating. Keeping his wrist bent, he moved his right hand slowly up, and was surprised when he quickly flying backward. He threw his other arm behind him, but realized quickly that the ‘jets’ only worked if his wrists were bent. Luckily this was before he hit the concrete wall.

Now air born and moving faster, he played around with different movements and configurations trying to understand how to accelerate and how to brake. It must have been a few minutes before he felt comfortable enough to just float ten feet above ground.

Tony was watching him, his face contorted in concentration. Steve could almost see him taking mental notes. “This is fun.” Steve said in an attempt to jar him from his train of thought.

“How are you doing that?” Tony asked.

“Doing what?” Steve said and began to fly in circles.

“I haven’t installed the stabilizers yet.”

That didn’t mean anything to Steve. “So?”

“So... it means you already know how to balance yourself, to maneuver. In like a minute! That’s impossible.” Tony said. Steve couldn’t tell if he sounded outraged or impressed.

Steve shrugged. “I’m a quick learner.”

“It’s not...” Tony began, took a deep breath, and started saying, “ _I’m_ a quick learner. It took me the better part of the day to get off the ground without hurting myself.” He paused, visibly considering something. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.” And flew gracefully back to the lab.

Steve wasn’t sure why he was so upset. He had a lot to learn. It wasn’t like he could fly through hallways, and he clearly didn’t have the control Tony had. He floated there for a second before he remembered _he was actually flying_ and began to zip around the tall room and trying to reach the ceiling. After he touched it, he tried to do a somersault. He botched the first attempt, falling twenty feet before he could right himself, but got it on the second try.

Steve was practicing flip maneuvers when Tony returned. “Stop showing off.” Tony shouted and Steve stopped to see he was carrying a large silver disk. “Remember the other night- the giant Frisbee plate?  Well I was wondering how’d this would work.” And he tossed it to Steve.

Steve caught it, though it was moving fast enough that the act of catching threw him a few feet back.

He examined it. It was a perfect concave circle, lighter than he expected, with a leather strap attached to the inner curve. “What’s this?”

“Vibranium. My dad made it, back during World War II.”

“Vibranium...” Steve examined it more closely, tossing it just a little to get a better feel for how it handled. “What is it supposed to do?”

“It’s a shield.” Tony said and shook his head, clearly disapproving. “I don’t even know what he did to get that much vibranium, and of all the things he could have done with it, he made that. I think he just liked the imagery, some American soldier fighting Nazis with nothing but a shield.”

Steve grasped the leather strap and took a defensive position, still in the air. He was imaging himself back in Afghanistan. “Well, it certainly has a special allure. I would have liked to have had something like this when I was in the Army.”

Tony scoffed. “Of course, you would. I wished you did.” Tony paused, seeing something in Steve for the first time. “He would have liked you. You could have stepped out of one of his old war stories.” He frowned as he said this.

Steve felt uncomfortable, like he always did when this happened. He resented being turned into some sort of larger than life figure- it ended up obscuring who he really was. It walled him off from others and kept them from seeing the kid from Brooklyn.

“What would you do, if you had this much vibranium?” Steve asked, trying to move on from the subject.

“Robots, spaceships, computers. The applications are endless.” Tony responded.

“They why haven’t you done that?”

“Done what?” Tony asked, confused.

“Melted it down. Used it for something that matters to you.” Steve said and tossed it back to Tony.

Tony thoughtfully stared at the shield. “I honestly don’t know. I guess I’m just sentimental.”

“You? Sentimental?” Steve flew over to Tony. “Somehow I doubt that.”

Tony was turning the shield around, tracing the grooves and studying them. “Or I guess I haven’t found anything worth destroying this for.”

He looked up at Steve, and in that moment Steve was suddenly aware that he was too close to Tony. At this distance, he could see things he hadn’t noticed before, like the caramel color of Tony’s eyes. His brain was racing, going too fast to settle on a single emotion, registering affection and fear and want and shame. Each confused feeling seemed to bounce off of the one before, cascading as his mind told him _you can’t have this_ and _kiss him_ at the same time, till he finally returned to his original thought.

_I’m too close._ Steve glided back a few inches so that he had enough space to think rationally, but no rational thoughts came. He searched his brain for something that would break his train of thought but came up short.

Tony was looking at him and wearing a satisfied expression, like he had just seen the proof he was right about something important. He tossed Steve the shield. “Anyway, I was wondering if you would like to do some target practice.”

That broke the spell. “Like with guns?” He asked, hoping the answer was no.

“Of course not. With that.” Tony said and nodded at the shield in Steve’s hands. “Like how you did the other night.”

Steve caught on to what Tony was talking about. “With what targets?”

“I thought you’d never ask. F.R.I.D.A.Y., bring up the stage one training exercise.” And just like that, perfect red spheres instantly materialized around him. “I needed something I could use when I wanted to play around with the repulsors.” He explained it like it was already obvious.

“Are they holograms?”

“Something like that. Tangible holograms.” Tony said as he flew up to one and touched it. Steve reached out his hand to another that was now a foot to the right of him. Indeed, it felt hard and smooth and very much real.

It seemed that Tony was as brilliant as his reputation suggested. “Wow. And you made them.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yep.” Tony answered anyway. “Try it.” He motioned to one of the spheres ten feet from Steve.

Steve smiled, knowing a challenge when he saw one, and instead aimed for the center of a sphere across the room. The shield hit it with a _clank_ , and ricocheted back, just as he wanted it to. “I really could have used this back in the army.”

Tony had the same smug smile, like he had again been proven right about something. Steve was beginning to learn that it was an expression he wore a lot.

Steve didn’t wait for Tony to comment, but instead threw the shield again at the same sphere, only this time he changed his aim just enough that it would bounce off and hit another before returning to his hands. There was something satisfying and right about that. He was grinning as he tried again, aiming for the back and then another sphere across the room.

He looked over at Tony once he caught it but was surprised that Tony’s face was drawn in concentration.

“Has anyone every studied you?” Tony asked.

Steve didn’t know what he was talking about. “Huh?”

“Like after the whole super serum thing.”

“Of course. I have to go in and do a bunch of tests every year.” Steve said.

“Do they test your brain?” Tony asked as he considered Steve.

“They run an MRI, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“It’s not. I want to know if it made you smarter.” Steve felt the full weight of Tony’s gaze, and it was making him self-unconscious.

Steve rubbed the back of his neck. “My IQ stayed the same.” In the presence of Tony Stark, Steve knew he didn’t measure up.

Tony threw his hands up, perhaps realizing what Steve thought he was implying. “No no no, not that. Like your instincts. Your decision-making process. You adjusted your movements almost instantly when you started flying. Me? When I throw the shield, I’m calculating mass times speed, I’m measuring the angles. Which, if I wasn’t, you wouldn’t be getting your money’s worth. But when you throw it- are you thinking about physics when you throw that thing?”

Steve thought about it, and answered truthfully. “No. I just kinda know.” But then he thought about it some more and amended his answer. “Or I know if I hit it the wall with a specific spin, it will go one direction, but if I throw it different way, it will go another. I know there are five spheres along the flight path I need to avoid, or use to bounce off. I know when I catch it, I should make sure my weight can handle the force pushing me back. I’m thinking about all those things at the same time, and evaluating each option till I find the right one.”

Tony was looking at him with wide eyes. “That’s...” He said as he searched for the right word. “Not what I expected.” And then he paused. “ _You’re_ not what I expected.”

“What were you expecting?” Steve said and frowned.

“Some boorish idiot who thought he was God’s gift to America.”

“I’m hurt that you think I’m not.” Steve deadpanned.

Tony cocked his head, trying to figure something out. Steve felt like an especially complicated piece of machinery. He liked it. Tony asked, “Was that a joke?”

Steve shrugged, trying to fight the urge to grin. “You tell me.”

He didn’t have a chance to, however. Suddenly Tony’s right jet boot gave a loud coughing sound, and then Tony was flying fast to the other side of the room. He hit the wall and then fell to the ground face first.

“TONY!” Steve screamed while he flew and crouched besides him.

Tony was trying to push himself up off the floor but was struggling in the attempt, clearly winded and hurt. Steve reached around his torso to right him and help him sit against the wall. “That could have been worse.” Tony finally said after a few deep breaths.

“What are you talking about? You fell at least ten feet. Is anything broken?” Steve didn’t wait for an answer and began running his hands along Tony’s arms, trying to asses if there was any damage in need of immediate medical attention.

“It’s part of the design process. Turns out I need to rethink my power source.” Tony said softly.

“Almost killing yourself? Maybe you need to rethink your design process.” Steve moved on to feeling if there was anything in Tony’s legs were out of place.

“Jet boots don’t make themselves.”

“You’ve done this before?” Steve asked, and knew the answer. He lightly glided his hands along Tony’s chest, trying to discern if there were any cracked ribs. When Tony didn’t answer, he added, “What hurts?”

“Everything hurts, but nothing feels broken.” He grabbed Steve’s wrists and he said suggestively, “Though I am appreciating the through pat down.” He didn’t make any attempt to move Steve’s hands, which were now on his waist.

His eyes caught Steve’s, and then that feeling returned. His brain was screaming _too close_ , or was it _not close enough_? Steve could feel his heart beating faster, could see the way Tony was leaning forward and closing the little distance there was between them.

He should have expected the kiss, but it was surprise anyway. Steve didn’t have time to register any thoughts besides Tony’s soft lips. Well, that was till Tony broke away for a second to readjust his position and Steve remembered his earlier conclusion.

“I can’t.” He said hysterically and stood up so fast he almost lost his balance.

“I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have done that.” Tony was able to stand up, though he looked like he was in a lot of pain.

“I just... I can’t.” Steve stammered. He wanted to run away, but he couldn’t. Tony was hurt. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine. And I’m really sorry. I - I was an idiot. Am an idiot.” Tony babbled.

“I got to go.” Steve said, and then began walking towards the door without looking back. He kept telling himself Tony would be ok, but he felt guilty for leaving him there. He was better than that, he was trying to be at least.

It took him a while to find the elevator in the hallway labyrinth, but Tony didn’t follow him. Steve was secretly grateful that he was being allowed to fail in private.

It wasn’t till he got halfway home that he realized he was still wearing those damn jet boots.


	4. Chapter 4

Tony hated paperwork. It wasn’t so much the reading or the legal-ize. Law was just logic viewed through its own history and language, and Tony had an especially good grasp on logic. It was the sitting that bothered him. Despite numerous attempts to create a device that allowed him to read and build at the same time, it never seemed to work as he intended.

No, reading legal paperwork in which one turns over their company to their personal assistant required _actually_ reading it. Normally he would have just asked Pepper to do it, but he was hoping beyond hope he could somehow get away with surprising her. It was probably impossible, but he figured she would be touched by the effort. Which is why he was sitting on his bed and hiding from her, pouring over document after document and trying to make sure everything was in order.

Reading all this material also had the unintended consequence of making Tony’s eyes heavy. Between whatever gas he had inhaled earlier in the week, the concussion he had probably suffered yesterday but was refusing to confirm, and the fact that legal documents were much more boring than whatever he could be blowing up at this moment, Tony was slowly slipping closer and closer to sleep.

Which is why he jumped when his phone beeped. He blinked a couple of times in the attempt to wake himself up, but still clumsily held up the phone to read it.

Tony knew never to be surprised. That didn’t mean he was expecting to see a text message from the one and only Captain Steve Rogers, whom Tony had been sure he’d never hear from again. For a second Tony considered just deleting the message before reading it. He knew logically (and he was so good with logic, right?) that he had been the one who fucked up. Still, the rejection hurt and he had already settled on never thinking about it again.

He read it anyway.

_I’m really sorry about yesterday. I should have explained myself._

Somehow knowing that Steve was apologizing was even more cruel than if he had just texted him to be cruel. Tony was the idiot, and yet here he was, reading an apology. Steve was the worst.

Tony didn’t throw the phone, he just set it down very forcibly. He looked at all the paperwork in front him. This felt big, what he was going to do. He wanted to talk to someone (that wasn’t himself) and know for sure that this made sense. So, he said, “Call Rhodey.”

“Can’t do that, boss.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. answered.

“What do you mean, you can’t do that?”, Tony asked, already annoyed at whatever bullshit he was about to deal with.

“Colonel Rhodes kindly requested I not call him between twenty-three and six hundred hours.”

“Why are you taking orders from him? You don’t work for Rhodey, you work for me.” Tony said, not at all petulant.

“He asked me very nicely.” She responded. Tony cursed himself for creating an AI who could use that tone with him.

“And if I bought you chocolates, you’d be nicer to me?”

“Wouldn’t hurt.” Tony let out an audible sigh, just to let her know she had won this round. He started to read the paperwork again, but his eyes kept being drawn to the phone beside him.

He reached for it, read the message one more time, and pressed the call button. No one had ever accused him of self-restraint. After the third ring, which was two more than Tony was willing to wait for, he was about to press ‘end call’ when he heard the line connect.

“Hello?” Steve said, his voice managing to sound both hopeful and surprised, and Tony immediately hated that he could hear that over the phone. For a moment, Tony thought about hanging up, but remembered his dislike was irrational and he had called for a completely unrelated reason anyway.

The best thing to do was to just lay it out in the open. “I need someone to tell me I’m not being an idiot.” He said before he could convince himself to not say it.

Steve didn’t miss a beat and responded, “Is this context specific or just in general, because if it’s the latter, then I can say for certain you have to be the smartest person -”

Tony cut him off and said, “I know I’m brilliant. I just need some confirmation on a very specific problem I’m facing. And could use a level head to talk to.”

“Well I’d be happy to discuss whatever is on your mind. Though I don’t know how much good I’ll be.” Steve said, sounding genuinely modest.

“You just got to promise not to go to the press after.”

“I wouldn’t ever think of it.” Steve actually sounded a little offended. That was a nice touch.

Tony tried to think how to phrase what he wanted to say. “Remember Pepper?”

“Of course.”

“Well, there is something I want to ask her...” Tony trailed off.

“Well if you care about her, you should tell her.” Steve advised, but he sounded sad and it took Tony a moment to put a few different things together.

“Oh you think I want to ask her out?” He didn’t ask why the thought made Steve sounded defeated. Instead he just smiled to himself.

“Well you clearly really like her...”

“Damn fucking right I really like her. I love her. She’s probably the actual best person in the world. But I don’t want to date her.” Tony paused and amended his statement. “Not that I haven’t tried before, or anything like that, because I definitely have. Many, many times. But that’s not what this about.” He paused, trying to right the conversation before it got out of hand. “Can we talk about this face to face?” Theoretically, it would cause less confusion. It had the added benefit of giving Tony a chance to get a read on Steve.

“Now?” Steve asked. He didn’t sound hesitant, just confused. “It’s midnight, Tony.”

“Yeah, I don’t see the problem. You hungry? I’m hungry. We should grab something to eat.” Steve was silent for a moment, so Tony just added, “It’s not a date. Just two guys, talking over dinner.”

“It’s still midnight.” Steve said, like that justified all his reservations.

“You’re awake, I’m awake. I don’t see why we need to dwell on the time. I’ll pick you up, just text me your address.”

“Tony-” But he hung up so he didn’t have to hear whatever objections Steve was going to raise. Full speed ahead and all that. Plus, Tony received the address a few minutes later, so Steve must not have been _that_ opposed to the idea.

It was a small miracle that Tony arrived outside some Brooklyn walk-up thirty minutes later, but that probably had more to do with his driving skills than the late hour. Also, it was cold, which he had not been aware of till he was standing outside of the car waiting for Steve to finish locking his front door.

“What’s good to eat around here? Someplace with alcohol.” Tony asked as way of greeting. He wasn’t dressed for the weather, so it made sense just to get to the point.

“There is this place around the corner. Though I’m not sure if it’s really your style.” Steve replied. He, on the other hand, was clearly prepared for the cold with a puffy blue coat, long white knitted scarf, and a matching blue hat. The effect was almost comical, and Tony was reminded that this man was probably around fifteen years younger than him.

“As long as it serves alcohol, it’s my kind of place. Also, warm. Warm is important.”

Steve’s description of “around the corner” turned out to be misleading however. Luckily, it was right when Tony was on the edge of cold and possibly dying when they entered some dingy basement with neon signs and a sticky floor. He immediately went to bar, guessing that Steve would be happy with whatever beer he could turn up.

When he returned, Steve was still settling in. It turned out there was a lot more to Steve’s outerwear than just the puffy jacket, and Tony watched in amusement as he removed layer after layer. He hoped his smirk conveyed that amusement effectively.

“What? I don’t like the cold.” Steve responded when he caught Tony’s eyes.

“Such a boy scout.” Tony tittered, and possibly there was a flirtatious edge to it. Sometime he wasn’t even sure himself. Steve blushed anyway.

And he didn’t complain when he grabbed his beer, so Tony took that as a small win. “What’s this Pepper problem you want to talk to me about?” 

“I’m thinking of promoting her.”.

Steve gave an approving nod. “To what?”

Tony just came out and said it. It was the easiest thing to do. “CEO.” 

Steve, bless him, only partially choked on his beer. After a few coughs, he said, “Isn’t that your title?”

“It is.”

“And what happens to you?”

Tony just waved away the question, it wasn’t his concern. “I’ll stay on as R&D or something. Be the company figurehead. It’s pretty much what I do now. And Pepper is already doing most of the heavy lifting. Why not give her the actual title and pay her accordingly?”

“Why don’t you want to do it?” Steve asked, like he was trying to get to the heart of the matter.

Tony shrugged. “I don’t like it. I’m not that good at it.”

“So, does that mean you are you giving up responsibility, or giving it to Pepper?”

Tony thought about it, just to make sure his mouth and his brain were on the same wavelength. “Why can’t it be both? Plus, once its official she can do all the great things she has to go through me to do. And I’ll have to sign less paperwork.  It’s a win-win situation.”

Steve eyebrow shot up, less like he didn’t believe Tony, but more that he saw through his bullshit. That was good, that was why Tony had called him in the first place. “And you trust her.” It wasn’t a question.

“More than anybody.”

Steve took a second to let that linger in the air. “What does she want?”

“Huh?”

“Did you ask her if _she wants_ to be CEO of _your_ company?” He asked like his meaning was obvious.

“That would ruin the whole surprise.”

Steve gave him a disapproving look. “Tony.” Like his name, said in the right tone, could communicate anything.

And once again, Tony tried to avoid saying whatever mean and biting quip was sitting on the tip of his tongue. “Stop it. With the eyes. And the face.”

Steve’s expression softened but his tone didn’t.  “You should talk to her about it. Before you do it. Don’t assume.”

Tony sighed. Steve had a point, but he was never going to say that out loud. “She wouldn’t have to be my PA anymore. She’d be over the moon.”

Steve’s voice was beginning to veer dangerously into disappointed father territory. “I’m not saying she wouldn’t want it. I’m saying you don’t know for sure.” He took a deep breath, probably having realized this was turning into a lecture. Tony wondered how often Steve accidentally lectured people. “You just want her to be happy, right?”

The shift in Steve’s voice managed to stop Tony from spitting out the arguments forming in his head. “Yeah. She deserves that.”

“Ask her if it would make her happy. That’s what you’d want.”

He chuckled. “Bad idea. For future reference-  if you ask me what I want, you should do the exact opposite, for everyone’s sake.” Tony paused because that sounded sadder than he wanted it to. “I just want to do something to show her how much she means to me. And she refuses to marry me, so this is the next best thing. Which is fine, she could do much better anyway.”

Steve scoffed, taking the bait. “Better than you? I don’t think that’s possible.” He said it with a goofy smile and looked like he meant it, too. Which was all sorts of frustrating.

“It’s on the record. I’m a well-documented pain in the ass.”

“I may have heard that before. But-” His smile faltered and his eyes moved began to study the bottom of his beer glass. “It’s not about being better or worse. When it doesn’t work, you can’t force it. But I’m probably the last person to give romantic advice.” He took a long drink, and Tony had the strong impression he was working up the nerve to say something.

“This have something to do with the whole ex-wife thing?”

“Yeah, about that...” He took another long gulp and then set his shoulders with a determined gleam in his eyes. “I wanted to tell you, about the other night...”

A giant warning sign flashed in the back of Tony’s mind, but he guessed he couldn’t avoid it. He wanted Steve to like him, even if it wasn’t going to lead to anything sexy. “Yeah, about that. I was hoping you woke up with amnesia and totally forgot about that. I fucked up. You made it very clear you weren’t interested in that and I really shouldn’t have tried anything.”

“I didn’t say I wasn’t interested...” Steve trailed off, and Tony had a strong desire to kick him and shake loose whatever was really going on amidst all the mixed signals. “She’s not my ex-wife. Not officially, anyway.”

Fuck. Tony knew he had misread the situation, but this... “So you’re saying that in addition to hitting on a straight dude, I also hit on a married one as well.”

“I’m not...”

He was so pissed, he didn’t wait to hear what Steve said. “You _explicitly_ said you were single. I thought you couldn’t lie? You are fucking Captain America!”

At least Steve had the wherewithal to look ashamed. “That’s just a label the media gave me. But yeah... I...” It sounded like he couldn’t say it, couldn’t get his mouth around the phrase ‘I lied.’ “I wasn’t expecting to like you. Everything I had ever heard about Tony Stark... I just thought you were some obnoxious rich guy. And then I was there, sitting next to you, and I’m thinking all these things that I never expected to think after Peggy. Things I never thought I would be able to feel about a guy. And I’m not even officially divorced and here I am, thinking about someone else.”

Tony resisted the urge to follow the more obvious line of questioning and instead focused on the one word that had stuck out. “Wait- what do you mean by ‘officially’?”

Steve also seemed to be ignoring that anything else he had said had been interesting. “I sign the papers Thursday.”

Ok, that was better. That Tony could handle. “Why are you getting divorced? Wait! I don’t need to know that.” He sighed. “But I want to. You don’t have to answer, though.”

“No, I should talk about it. I need to. I...” Steve hesitated and looked away. “See- you need to know Peggy. She’s so smart and driven and just this brilliant person. And she loves her job more than anything. I think even more than me.” He smiled at some secret thought. “I loved that about her. After the serum, I couldn’t tell if people wanted to be around me because they actually liked me or because they liked the idea of a super-soldier. And I never doubted Peggy.” Steve paused and took a long gulp. “She worked so hard for her job and I messed that up. I just couldn’t keep my mouth shut, even when she needed me to.”

“What happened?”

“Remember when it came out that S.H.E.I.L.D. assassinated the president of Latveria?”

“What does that have-”

Steve cut him off. “Reporters like to ask me about those sorts of things. ‘Captain America condemns whatever’ is a good headline. And I was really upset when the story broke. I wasn’t working for the government anymore, but it made me ashamed that it happened. There was no due process. And _S.H.I.E.L.D._ shouldn’t be acting as judge, jury, and executioner.” Steve was getting noticeably worked up.

It made Tony annoyed, “Take some deep breaths. Why is this relevant?”

He took a deep breath. “Peggy works for S.H.E.I.L.D.”

“And it caused some problems at work?”

“It cost her a promotion.”

“Oh shit. So, she chose the job?”

Steve shook his head. “It was more than that. She... she understood. And I promised her I wouldn’t do it again. But...”

“You did it again.” Tony finished for him. This was hitting a little close to home.

“Yeah. A month later I made the mistake of talking to reporters, _again_. And criticizing S.H.E.I.L.D., _again_. We were alike in that way. I was always going choose my convictions. She always was going to choose her work. And I can’t blame her. It’s what made me fall in love with her in the first place.”

“So, it was a mutual thing?” Tony asked.

“I really wanted to make it work. But I think she knew me well enough to know I couldn’t change.”

“But you loved her.”

“Yeah... I wish that was enough.” Tony was struck speechless for a moment, which was such a rare event it took him another second to recover. Steve seemed to have taken it as a cue to keep talking. “So, as you can see, I’m not ready for something like what happened the other night. And I’m sorry because I wasn’t very clear about that with you.” He then muttered to himself, like it was an afterthought, “Or myself.”

He wasn’t sure which part of any of this got under his skin, but Tony found himself hating the sweet and sincere man in front of him. _I don’t have time for this shit_ , he thought to himself. Tony wasn’t the type of guy who went out of his way to acquire friends, and here he was, trying. Of course, this had to be complicated. “Ok. I’m going to go now.” He got up to leave. Steve grabbed his arm and gave him a pleading, vulnerable look, and Tony should have known better than to say what he said next. But it had already been established that he was never known for his self-restraint. “Look, I don’t have the fucking time to be your gay confused rebound.” And he walked out into the cold without another thought.

 

\----------

 

“Where first?” Bucky asked. Natasha was in the driver’s seat of some beaten down car, and he had a few days’ worth of clothes in the backseat. 

“Clint.”

“And where is Clint?” He asked when she didn’t provide any details.

“I have an idea.” She gave an enigmatic smirk that made it clear she was enjoying this. “I’ve been able to at least confirm the locations of the others, but not him. So, he’s the priority. I also have a theory I need to confirm.”

“You going to share that theory of yours?” Bucky asked. He didn’t really need to know. This was good and he was thoroughly enjoying watching the road go by. There was no catastrophic event playing out, no life or death stakes, and even his faulty brain wiring seemed safe for the moment.

Natasha looked like she was enjoying herself too. “When I know for sure.” She answered.

Bucky let it go. At this point trusting her seemed to be the smartest decision he could make. He said without thinking, “This is nice.”

Instead of calling him out on his sentimentality, she muttered, “Yeah, it is.” And it looked like she meant it. “I thought after the whole _incident_ with the accords, feeling normal would feel like stealing. It’s funny, I was undercover or on the run or just... you know.” She waved her hand and Bucky felt sad, because he did know. “The Avengers were the closest thing I was ever going to get to normal, and when it all went to hell it seemed to be for a reason. I got used to it.”

He wondered what the proper response was to that, and instead said, “I’m sorry. About all of that.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” She said without a moment’s hesitation, and for just another moment Bucky believed her. “You weren’t the reason things went the way they did. That was Steve, and some Tony, but mostly Steve.” She clarified further, and he liked that about her, how she wasn’t trying to absolve him of everything he had done.

“He was just doing what he thought was right.”

“He did it knowing what it would cost. He knew it would break the team up. And he did it anyway.” She said evenly, but Bucky could sense her bitterness. “I used to think he understood it better than anyone, what it meant to have the team. What it meant to have a family. The rest of them, they had other people and other places, and other ambitions. But Steve and I, we were just two people from different worlds trying to apply our unique skill sets for something more. That’s all I had. And I thought we had that in common.”

“It’s not in him to back down when he thinks he’s right.” Bucky muttered, feeling defensive of his friend.

“Yeah, I’m sure his ideals keep him warm at night.” She flippantly responded and then gave a loud sigh. “I know he wouldn’t be him without all that righteousness. It just hurt to see him put it before the team.”

They sat in silence for a little while, Bucky trying to understand. Again, he felt a strong sense of having missed all these important things about someone who used to know so well. “What was he like? In the twenty-first century.”

For a moment, he was worried Natasha was too upset to reply, but then she said, “He was focused. Capable and trustworthy. A great partner. He took everyone’s needs on the team seriously.” She paused, looking like she was trying to find the right words. “He was sad. At first I thought it was just the whole out-of-time thing. And he opened up over time, if never enough.  He was obsessed with finding you. I think he thought it would make everything ok.” She added, mostly to herself. “I wonder if it did.”

Guilt, which had been less of a constant presence in the last few days, filled Bucky. “I know I should have just... stopped trying to hide.” She looked at him like she wasn’t expecting that answer. It wasn’t one he expected to give. “There was so much that didn’t make sense. And so much I wasn’t sure about. I couldn’t just go out there, but I think now I know that would have been the best. It shouldn’t have been like this.”

“No one blames you. Ok, I don’t blame you. And if you think coming back to Steve would have solved more than just the small obvious problems… It might have helped Steve and he certainly could have used a friend- but I don’t know. I don’t think it would have fixed everything.” She finished lamely.

“Still... at least I could have helped. Could have prevented the whole Siberia thing.”

She turned to look at him so quickly he jumped out of his seat. “Nothing you could have done would have prevented that.”

Bucky tried to believe her, but it only lasted for a moment. “If I never killed-”

She cut him off. “Are you telling me you were in enough control you could have stopped yourself from killing Howard and Maria Stark?” Her voice was practically challenging him to disagree with her.

A sick and heavy guilt formed in the bottom of his stomach. He could see it in the back of his mind, feel the moment he stared into Howard’s eyes. The memory was all warped in his head, he couldn’t tell if he knew it was an old friend or if now with all the details filled in, that's just how he remembered it. His memories were clearer now than they were in Budapest. Still, everything that had happened seemed to contain at least three different narratives. Every memory, even the ones that had been safe and good, were now marred by violence. “No.” He answered her.

She was right, he couldn’t have stopped it. But it wasn’t a comfort, because Bucky could never tell himself that it wasn’t really him. Nothing took away the memories.

“I don’t think I’ve ever killed someone.” She said after a few minutes’ silence. Bucky looked at her, confused. The Black Widow had a reputation he had every reason to believe was deserved. She must have read his mind, because she added, “In this world, where ever this is. I hacked my S.H.I.E.L.D. record, and every other record I could find, and there is nothing there.” She gave a small smile. “It doesn’t take the memories away, but for some reason it makes me feel better.”

“Why do you think that is? Does this have to do with the ‘theory’ you mentioned earlier?”

“Actually, this is a different theory. Think about it- maybe this is a world where everything went right. Everything we wanted to, at least.”

Bucky thought about that for a few minutes. “I do have my own bedroom. With a door. That never happened before.” Not as a kid, or the studio he had scared with Steve, or even Budapest. But he was sure he had killed in this life too. He had been a soldier, after all. There was just no need to say that aloud. There was something more pressing on his mind, anyway. “I wonder if my triggers still work.”

Natasha pondered that, and when she answered her voice was soft. “I didn’t think of that. They might, they might not. It’s a memory thing, right? And here you still have the same memories.”

“I don’t really want to know the answer to that question.” But Bucky didn’t have much of a choice, did he? He was a walking weapon if they still worked.

Natasha seemed to work out what he was thinking and said, “If something happens, I’ll stop it.” She didn’t say how. She didn’t have to say how. He knew enough about her to know she wouldn’t get sentimental.

“I’m worried if something happens, you won’t be able to.” They were perhaps preparing for something that didn’t matter, but now that he was thinking of it it was hard to remember that just three days ago he was excited to take advantage of Tony Stark’s open bar. It felt odd, that he could be the fun-loving man he was before the war as well as the haunted man he was now. This alternate reality made it easy to forget every horrible thing that happened when he was the Winter Soldier. And he couldn’t do that.

“I could try and see if I could...” She waved her hand in a vague gesture and Bucky was sure she meant ‘put you under mind control’. “When it’s safe to do so, I mean. And if you trust me.”

“I trust you.” Bucky said without a thought. He knew he had every reason not to, every reason to trust no one, but he did anyway. “I’d like...” but ‘like’ was too strong of a verb, so he corrected himself and said, “That would be a good idea. When we have a chance.”

They rode in silence till they drove up to a long driveway in front of a small farm house.

Natasha said, “Here’s the plan- we knock on the door, and if he recognizes us, I’m going to ask some questions to make sure he is recognizing us for the same reason we are recognizing each other.”

They didn’t have to knock, however, because the door opened as soon as they reached the landing.

“Nat!” Clint exclaimed and pulled Natasha in a big bear hug. After a full minute, she pulled away. “And you brought Bucky! Wait- does this mean you guys also think we are stuck in some idealized alternate reality, right? Or...”

“Don’t worry Clint, we know. What’s the last thing you remember?”

“We were in that volcano and Cap was dead and suddenly everything flashed white.”

“Steve’s alive. Here at least.” She said.

Clint smiled. “I know. The internet told me. Dude can’t keep his head down for the life of him. Have either of you seen him? How is he?”

“He’s Steve.” Bucky shrugged.

“Have you seen any of the others?”

“Only Tony.” Natasha and Bucky answered at the same time.

“Of course. I could also find him on the internet.” Clint rolled his eyes. “Wanna stay for dinner?”

“We shouldn’t-” Natasha began.

“Hell yes.” Bucky finished involuntary and Clint smiled.

They sat for a long time on the porch, Clint doing most of the talking. His wife and kids would enter and exit at will, and each time there was a different story, or accomplishment, or just antidote from the other day. Natasha seemed to have been a frequent visitor and every so often someone would drag her away or show her some picture they drew. At some point she returned with a baby. The whole sight had not been what Bucky was expecting when they had pulled in earlier, but as it was enfolding it seemed more real than anything else that had happened in recent memory. It even seemed plausible that Clint and Natasha were really his longtime friends, and not just some people he had fought with and against.

No one brought up that this wasn’t in-fact real. It wasn’t until after (a delicious and filling) dinner that Clint took them aside and said, “What’s the plan?”

Bucky looked at Natasha, because what else was he going to do? She said, “I want to check in with the others. See if there is anyone who is also aware. And if not, I’d like to be able to know how to check in with them in case this becomes permanent.”

“You think this is going to be permanent?” Bucky asked.

“No, but I want to be prepared.”

Clint looked thoughtful. “We should leave tonight.”

“Huh?”

“No!”

Clint just shook his head and continued, “Yes. We need to leave and figure out what is going on and possibly stop it. This isn’t real! And somewhere in the real world we are in a volcano and Cap’s probably dead, and I’m a fugitive who hasn’t seen my kids in six months. We can’t fix that world till we go back.”

“But why tonight?” Natasha asked. She looked genuinely sad at the idea of leaving.

“Because this is perfect. This is everything I could have wanted and if I stay another hour I’ll never be able to leave. It has to be now and it has to be quick.”

Natasha just shook her head. “If you say so.”


	5. Chapter 5

While he studied his reflection in the bathroom mirror of the lawyer’s office, Steve tried to prepare himself to see Peggy one more time. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a bigger end then it seemed, and he might possibly never see her again. She had died in his dream the night before, and while he’d been able to convince himself that it was only a nightmare, he still felt haunted by the echo of it. He wasn’t sure if he was scared, or angry, or sad. Or some strange combination of all three. A voice in the back of his mind told him that he had to do this whether he liked it or not, and moping about it wouldn’t solve a thing.

Steve had just convinced himself to leave the bathroom when his phone buzzed. There was a moment somewhere between grabbing the phone and reading the message when he briefly hoped it was Tony before remembering that Tony didn’t seem to like him much and this was the wrong time to be thinking of someone else.

It was only Sam, telling him he could call when everything was over and that ‘ _I’m there for you, man_.’ That was the push Steve needed to walk out and down the hall and face what he needed to do.

Peggy smiled when he walked in the room and Steve loved her so much his chest hurt. She looked beautiful. She always did. Her style was always so impeccable, and even though he was sure she had just fit this in between saving the world, she didn’t look harried at all. Sitting across the table from her, he found himself evaluating any and all Hail-Mary attempts at stopping what was about to happen.

But then she was looking him in the eyes and Steve remembered that she had been his friend first. He loved her more than he needed to be with her, and if she needed this, he could do that.

They sat there for a second, waiting for the lawyers to shuffle around their paper work. When she spoke, it felt like they were the only two people in the room. “You know, we didn’t have to do this in person.”

“I wanted to.” Steve responded.

“Me too. You look good by the way.”

“Must be the new shampoo. You, as always, look beautiful.”

“Thank you. It’s been quite the week. This the closest thing I’ve had to a chance to catch my breath.”

Steve smiled fondly, taking the documents his lawyer was handing him without breaking eye contact with her. “I’m sure you are in your element.”

“Yes. I love it.” She looked down at the papers in front of her and frowned slightly. “You ready for this?”

Steve responded with the truth. “I don’t think I’ll ever be ready.” But he knew begging her to forgive him and telling her he could change would do no good. “But it’s time.”

“Yes, it is.” She said, her voice a mixture of grief and fondness.

He had read these documents already, and it would be duplicitous to pretend to read them again to buy a few more moments. Instead he picked up the pen, took a small steadying breath, and signed them. In the months he had been anticipating this moment, Steve expected it to feel like a punch to the gut. Having gone through with it, however, it felt more like a weight being lifted from his shoulders.

“So, that’s that.” Peggy said, handing over her signed documents to her lawyer. She checked her watch and continued, “I must be getting back before all hell breaks loose. Could we have the room?” She commanded their lawyers. After they complied, she told Steve, “How are you doing?”

“Can’t complain.”

“I know you can’t. I wish you would, though.” Steve chuckled but she struck a more serious tone. “I know this... this wasn’t easy. I actually had to convince myself to come this morning, and I _wanted_ this divorce.”

“It’s for the best.” Steve said, because he wasn’t sure of what to say short of platitudes.

Peggy shook her head. “No, it’s not. At least not yet. But I really hope both of us will be happier in the long run.” She got up to go, and Steve got up to follow her out, but before she opened the door she turned to him and said, “I’ll always love you, you know that right?”

Steve nodded. That had never been in doubt.

“And it was never going to work the way _both_ of us could have hoped. But it was nice while we had it. And...” She placed her hand on his chest. “It’s ok to move on. It’s ok if you aren’t ready, but I want you too, when you are ready, I mean. Is there anyone?” Peggy smiled at him and he felt like he was the strongest man in the world. He was sure even before the serum, that look on her face would turn him into a hero. He wanted to be the man she so clearly thought he was.

He put his hand over hers and held it in place. “There might have been someone.” He tentatively began, even though a part of him wished he wasn’t always compelled to tell the truth. “But I think it wasn’t meant to be. I’m pretty sure I screwed it up already.” When she didn’t look hurt by his confession, he asked, “How about you?”

“I don’t even know when I’d find the time to meet anyone new. I think I’m going to be married to my job for a little while.”

He let go of her hand. “It makes me feel better, knowing you are around to save the day.”

Peggy placed her hand on his cheek and looked directly into his eyes. “Remember this isn’t goodbye. We’ll see each other again.”

Steve wasn’t sure about that. This moment felt so final and complete, like it was the perfect bookend to their story. Without hesitating he pulled her into a hug, unable to shake the voice that was telling him this was the last time he could.

It hurt when she pulled away, but he couldn’t stop it. This was what had to happen now. She opened the door and looked back at him. “I don’t know what you did, or who this person is, but I hope it works out. It would make me so happy if you were happy.” She gave him one last look before saying, “Goodbye, Steve.”

And left him behind.

It took forever to walk out of there, the full exhaustion of the last seven months hitting him like a freight train. But outside the sun was shining and he could feel the heat of it on his face. It didn’t make him feel lighter, but it did feel easier. Steve decided to stay in the sun and walk home instead of confining himself to the subway. He got a few blocks before the need to talk to someone became too great and he called Sam.

“How’d it go?” Sam said in way of a greeting.

“Not bad.”

“Are you lying to me?”

Steve smiled to himself. “I wouldn’t be calling you if went bad.”

Sam didn’t need time to consider this. “Yeah, that is one, of many things, that concerns me about you.”

“You don’t need to be concerned. I mean it. It went well.

Sam didn’t sound so convinced. “How’re you doing?”

“I told you, it went well.”

“You said that already, but I was asking how _you_ are doing.” Sam’s voice somehow managed to sound more authoritative and comforting when he was exasperated. It was why he was a good social worker.

“Can’t get one past you, huh? I’m... would you believe me if I said I was ok? But I feel worn out more than anything. I’ve spent so long dreading this, and I guess I expected to shut down today, but turns out the world is still spinning.”

“You want me to come down there? We can hit up some bars, maybe talk to some ladies. Or I could set you up with someone, if you want. Who am I kidding? You are probably all set on some self-imposed celibate mourning period.”

Steve felt his face heat up. This was as good a time as any to come clean, and Sam was a good a person he was going to find to tell.

Steve had stared down Al-Queda. This should be nothing. “What if I’m ready to move on?”

Sam scoffed. “Did you just say what I thought you said?”

“Oh, so now I say what you want to hear and it isn’t good enough?” Steve said, his voice dry.

“I’m just... surprised. So, tell me who is this lady?”

Steve rolled his eyes, even though Sam wasn’t here to see it. “I didn’t say there was a lady.”

“Steve, I know you. What’s her name? Have you actually introduced yourself or are you just naming your future dog from afar?”

“Yes... I’m pretty sure they know me.”

“Everybody knows you. Probably a good idea to get confirmation, just in case. How’d you meet?”

Steve took a deep breath.  He had no good reasons not to say it aloud. “I met _him_ last week at that party honoring Bucky, the one with the crazy jewelry thieves pretending to be terrorists.” Sam was silent. Steve could almost see him trying to figure out how respond in the most appropriate fashion. However, Steve had never been accused of being patient. So instead of waiting for Sam to get his bearings, he said, “Yes, I did just say what you thought I said. Can we move on to the actual situation?”

“This didn’t have anything to do with the divorce, did it?”

“The two things couldn’t be more unrelated.”

“You know you can talk to me about this if you need to.”

“I thought we were talking now.” Steve said with a smile.

“I mean, you could have told me sooner.” He sounded wounded.

“I know, Sam. And I haven’t told anyone else yet.”

“So, I’m special?” He could pretty much hear the grin on Sam’s face. Steve just groaned in response. “So, I need some details on the situation.”

A part of Steve’s brain was already beginning to regret this conversation. Talking about these things always made him uncomfortable. “What exactly do you need to know?”

“Name, occupation, when you will see him next?”

“I can’t tell you, can’t tell you, and I don’t think I will see him again.” Steve’s voice fell when he said the last part. He didn’t want to talk about this anymore.

“Oh, come on, I need to know more than that! At least tell me why you won’t see him again.”

“It’s complicated.”

“And it’s complicated why?”

“I don’t think he likes me very much.”

Sam scoffed. “I need you tell me everything, from the beginning.” So, Steve did- he began with the party and his instant dislike for Tony, the fight with those damn hired goons, all the way to the abrupt ending a few nights ago, all the while attempting to avoid disclosing any distinguishing details.

“Are you having a thing with Tony fucking Stark?”

Apparently, he had done a lousy job of not making it obvious. “How did you know?”

“How would I not? I saw the newspaper stories from the weekend, and I’m sure there are very view people with massive underground labs that would invite you to play _with their jet boots_.”

“Well, as you can see, I don’t think it’s going to go anywhere.”

“I have no idea why you think that, unless you are telling an entirely different story than I am hearing. Because what I’m hearing is that he isn’t good enough for you.”

Steve groaned. “Sam-”

“No seriously, if he can’t wait a week for you to figure your shit out-”

“That’s not what happened-”

“But it kinda is what happened. Look Steve, I can name numerous reasons why getting involved with notorious playboy Tony Stark is going to cause your problems. But number one on my list is that he is clearly just as confused about this as you are.” Sam took a deep breath and continued. “Now, if you want to meet someone, I have at least five, no double that now, ten people I would be happy to set you up with.”

“I don’t want to be set up with anybody!”

“Steve, Steve, Steve... All I’m saying is that you already sound hung up on him. And I don’t think he’s worth it-”

Steve cut him off and said, “You don’t know him.”

“I know enough, and you’re just proving my point. You get _attached_. I get it- that is just how you are. But maybe this is a situation to get attached to someone else.”

“I didn’t say anything about being attached.”

“But you are, aren’t you?” Sam said. “I know you are going to do what you are going to do, and I’d be really happy if this worked out for you. It just seems like an intense way to start your single life. And if it doesn’t work out then I’ll just have to introduce you to one of my friends.”

“I didn’t agree to that.”

“I don’t need you to. I construct some elaborate meet-cute.” He paused for a second. “Ok, looks like I have to go- keep me updated, and please, please, please, call me if you need to talk. The whole stoic thing doesn’t suit you as well as you think.” Another pause. “Also- do you have any idea why Bucky was at my house this morning?”

Steve had no idea. “Huh?”

“He showed up on my doorstep this morning with this beautiful redhead and some other guy, asking me these weird questions. It was really unsettling. And then they left.”

“That is... really strange.”

Sam was talking fast and Steve assumed he had some appointment he had to make. “Anyway, I figured I’d say something. Ask him if he can get me the redhead’s number. Got to go. Bye.”

When he finally got back, it took one look at Bucky’s apartment and the neatly folded blanket on the side of the couch for Steve to realize he needed to move out as soon as possible. Now, being on the other side of the experience, it was easy to see that he had been avoiding moving on and attempting to pretend it wasn’t as permanent as possible. However, he finally felt ready for a change. A floodgate of possibilities filled his mind. Maybe it was time to really commit to the whole art thing, or move to a different city, or join the Peace Corps, or hell, call Tony again and see if he was willing to try something.

He took one look at his phone. It wouldn’t hurt to try, right? The worst thing Tony could say was just confirming what Steve thought, and at least he would be clear about what happened. On the other hand, all logical arguments supported Sam’s opinion. Even if this worked, and that was a gigantic if, there was no way this relationship would end well. Which is why he eventually stopped staring at the phone like it held all the answers, and put it back in his pocket.

Of course, he had just finished setting up an appointment to see an apartment the next day when Tony called.

“Hello.” He said, trying to sound sure of himself. Instead he just sounded angry.

In contrast, Tony’s voice was casual. “Steve? I’m just calling to tell you- you were wrong. I asked Pepper and she was 100% on board with the whole thing and I ruined the surprise by following your advice.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Though she did add that she appreciated me taking her feelings in to consideration. So, I guess you are only half wrong. Still, you ruined my surprise and for that I can’t forgive you.” He didn’t sound serious. Or maybe he was, but it was buried so deep that it was impossible to know for sure.

“If you’re so angry, why did you call me to tell me this?” Steve asked as he began to pace the living room.

“Because I wanted you to know you were wrong. Also, just wondering how your day is... going? Damn I’m bad at this.”

“At asking people about their days? I have a feeling you want to ask me about the whole divorce thing.” A smile was creeping across Steve’s lips.

Tony responded with mock innocence. “Oh, was that today? I completely forgot about that.”

“Did you call me to ask how I was doing?” The disbelief in Steve’s voice was very real.

“No, I called to gloat. About the Pepper thing. It was entirely unrelated to your well-being. For the record, I’m not concerned at all about that.” He paused, his voice sounding almost sincere, “But if you need to talk, that’s ok. Gives me more opportunities to point out how you were wrong.”

Steve didn’t need a translation- he knew this was how Tony cared. He could tell by the slight inflection of his voice, and the way the words he wasn’t saying came through anyway. It made Steve so happy inside that couldn’t respond with anything coherent, so he went with the next best thing. “I’m looking for an apartment.”

“Like, right now?”

“No, maybe tomorrow? I was trying to schedule things when you called. I came home and realized I needed to stop crashing on Bucky’s couch. Guess it’s time to move on.” He tried to make the last sentence sound causal.

“Do you need help?” Tony said, surprisingly without a hint of sarcasm.

Which is why Steve said, “With moving on?”

Tony made some sort of choking sound. “No, I meant with apartment hunting. Jesus Steve, are you saying what I think your saying?”

Steve couldn’t tell if Tony was annoyed or hopeful. Possibly both. So, he probably should have hedged his bets and said something noncommittal. However, taking the safe option was never his forte. “Would you like to grab dinner on Saturday?”

“You mean like a date-date? Just making sure, because we’ve had some crossed wires before.” His voice had gotten higher and he was speaking just a little faster than normal.

“Yes. I, Steve Rogers and interested in you, Tony Stark, romantically.” He said deadpan.

“I don’t think I get it- you are going to have to be a little clearer than that.” Tony’s joking tone had returned and he sounded again like he confident and assured self.

“I think I could be clearer on Saturday night.” He hadn’t meant to make it sound suggestive, but was proud of himself when it did. This wasn’t so hard.

“Wait. Do I have the wrong number? I wasn’t aware you had that in you.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“Jeez. Yes. Yes, please. That sounds great. You should get divorced every day.” He stopped abruptly, and then added, “I probably shouldn’t have said that. Just forget the whole saying of that.”

Surprisingly, Steve wasn’t offended. “It’s ok. You’re probably right anyway.”

“I know it’s probably bad dating etiquette, but would you mind telling me how it went?”

“No problem at all.” But they didn’t stop talking when he finished recapping the day, and they didn’t stop talking after Tony told him about all the women he could have married, and they didn’t stop after Steve recounted the serum, and the war, and his mother’s death, or after they were done discussing what it was like running a global organization, or going to MIT at 14, or Tony’s father. 

When Steve finally got off the phone it was late into the night, and he couldn’t shake the goofy grin off his face.

 

\----------

 

“You sure you want to do this?” Pepper said as she smiled at Tony from across the table. She looked confident and radiant, dressed in a white suit and with her hair pulled back.

Tony didn’t have to even consider the question. “This may have been the surest I’ve ever been about anything.”

“You don’t have to, you know.”

Tony shrugged. “Yeah, but I want to. You are practically doing all this work now, and this will free me up for more of my own personal projects, and everyone will know you are the one in charge.”

“You aren’t scared I’ll push you out of the company? Change the name?” She asked with a smirk.

“Are you going to do either of those things?”

“No.”

“Then I’m not worried. I wasn’t worried before and I’m not worried now.” Tony had no reason to believe Pepper would have nothing but his best interests at heart. And if she didn’t, it would be because she had some greater interest at heart. God, he loved her.

“People will talk- you know. They’ll say you are unfit, or that I somehow used my feminine wiles to wrest your company away from you. They’ll say you are disrespecting your father’s legacy.” She said, looking legitimately concerned.

“One, the press says that every other week. Two, that is exactly what happened, and you know it. Three, fuck my dad. Now stop trying to make me change my mind. It isn’t working.”

She smiled at him. “I just wanted to make sure.” She looked down at the papers in front of her, reading every word. Which was another reason she would be a much better CEO. “This feels so big. Like we are getting married or something.”

Tony began to say, mock serious. “I, Tony Stark, promise to cherish you and defer to your excellent organizational abilities. I will attempt to sign paperwork in a timely manner. And to sometimes turn up at board meetings before they’re over.”

She smirked at him. “And I, Pepper Potts, will always call you out when you are being an ass.”

Tony looked over at their lawyer sat the end of the table, expecting one of them to pronounce them man and wife. Or CEO and Chief Research and Development Officer. Alas, they sat there stone-faced, because they had been hired for their exceptional skills and not their sense of humor. That had certainly been Pepper’s doing. “So, let’s get this over with- the moment we take this public, shares in SI are going to go through the roof and I get richer.”

“Oh, so that is what this is about?” Pepper said, teasing.

“Always.” He responded with the greatest lie in his life.

The actual paper signing was uneventful, for all the jokes Tony tried to make through it. And after they went to lunch, nothing fancy, just something small, quick, and discrete to celebrate. They had a press conference later, and plus Pepper had an actual company to run. It had been her idea to announce today, in case the media responded badly to the news and they needed the rest of the weekend for damage control. Tony had vehemently disagreed that that would happen, but she was in charge and he was happy to defer to her better judgment.

“So, what are you going to do now that you are a free man?” Pepper asked over her martini.

“I was thinking Disneyland, but I’m pretty sure I’ve got a ton of work to do now that I have to make my boss happy.”

“I expect the new StarkPhone prototypes on my desk Monday morning.” She was being serious, but there was a hint of humor in her voice.

“Yes boss.” He tried to say defiantly as possible and then added as forced afterthought, “Also, I got a date tonight.”

She looked genuinely surprised. “Care to share more details?”

Tony attempted to be nonchalant. “Remember Captain Rogers?”

“You’re dating Captain America?!” Pepper exclaimed.

“One date. Singular. And Captain America is just a name the media gave him.”

“Oh, and what do you call him?” Pepper asked disbelievingly.

“Generally, just Steve.”

Her eyes were wide with confusion. “Steve, huh? I didn’t even know... Ok. Please start from the beginning.”

And he did. And when he was done, she looked just as confused as she had before.

Pepper shook her head. “And you aren’t making any of this up?”

“Why would I?” Tony was genuinely surprised by the question.

“It just seems... unbelievable.”

He just shrugged.

“I’m not saying I don’t believe what happened...  I just, he doesn’t seem much like your type. And it sounds like you are really into him. I can’t even remember you ever going to crazy for someone. At least since...”

“You?” He smiled at her. It wasn’t an accusation.

Pepper sighed, “I guess so. I just don’t think this is the best idea.”

Of all the things Pepper could have said, he wasn’t expecting that. “I thought you would love him. He’s a good and responsible person.”

“I’m sure he is, but he’s also clearly going through a major transition. And I’m not sure he knows what he wants.”

“What’s the problem with that?” Tony asked.

Pepper furrowed her brown, looking concerned. “Because you clearly like the guy, and he’s going to hurt you.”

Tony try to protest. “He’s not-”

“He will. For sure. Even if none of the things I’m worried will happen, happen, he’ll still hurt you. And not because he’s a bad guy or anything, but sometimes you see too much in people. And no one can live up to that.”

“You’ve lived up to it.”

She shook her head with a sad smile. “No I haven’t.” Pepper paused and considered her next words. “And that’s ok. And maybe in a different world I’d say you should go for it, but to be careful about him disappointing you. But in this world, Steve’s a guy who probably shouldn’t be rushing into anything at the moment. And you don’t do anything slowly.”

Tony stared at her. He knew she was right, somewhere deep in the recesses of his brain, but it was hard to wrap his mind around the fact. Even though he couldn’t come up with a coherent argument against her, he still felt compelled to say something, anything to make her change his mind.

It was a testament to his self-control that instead he put on his most boyish smile and said, “I have a counter point- he’s like _crazy_ hot.”

Pepper rolled her eyes. “There are other _crazy_ hot people in the world.”

“I’m starting to wonder if I’ve already slept with all of them.”

“Well if anybody has- it’s certainly you.”

Later that evening, Tony was going over her words in his head while he got ready and sipped a scotch. He could feel what she had said rubbing him the wrong way, like it was a thought he couldn’t properly process and was instead stuck in the same place. 

On one hand, Steve had already confused and frustrated him. There was something about the man that made him seem like he was a paragon of truth, yet he had revealed himself to be as confused and unsure as most people were at any given time. Tony tried to figure out why that had annoyed him so much, but couldn’t really wrap his mind around it.

The best he could figure out was that he was simultaneously angry at Pepper for making so much sense and Steve for not being perfect.

Which is why, instead of leaving at a reasonable time to pick him up, Tony instead poured himself another scotch and sat on his bed, trying to figure out the rest of it.


	6. Chapter 6

“Who’s next on the list?” Clint asked from across the table. They were in a diner somewhere in New Jersey, not far from the city. It had been a busy couple of days, crisscrossing the country trying to check in with any of Avengers or known Avenger associates, and they needed a moment to catch their breath and eat some burgers.

Natasha set her milkshake down. “We’ve hit everyone I know about, without leaving the country. I guess our next stop is Sarkovia to see Wanda and Pietro. But without the quinjet, it looks like we’ll have to fly coach.” Not a single other person they had seen recognized them. However, they were at least able to confirm the location of the other Avengers, in case they needed to be protected or gathered quickly. “I’m not sure about Vision or Thor, and I can’t find a sign of Bruce. It’s like he was never born.”

“Vision probably just doesn’t exist. I mean, no Ultron, no Vision, right?” Clint deduced. “And Thor, well he isn’t from around here. Hell, he’s probably not even on this planet. And Bruce...” He continued while chewing on his cheeseburger. “I’m stumped on that one.”

“When’s the last time you’ve seen him?” Bucky asked. He didn’t know much about the man and had little reason to encounter anything about him. But he had spent the last few days hearing many stories that Bruce factored into. It was probably the closest thing to knowing him he was going to get.

“After Sarkovia.” Natasha and Clint said at the same time.

“Any reason to believe he’s also not on this planet?” Bucky wasn’t sure if that in this group if that was a weird question, but it couldn’t hurt to say it.

Clint and Natasha shared enough of a glance for Bucky to know they were seriously considering the possibility. That made him feel better.

Eventually she just said with a shrug, “I have no idea.”

“So, I got to know...” Bucky began, “You said when we started you might have a theory about why all of this happened. What are you thinking now?”

“Well, I can’t be sure about any of it. But remember when you said that this could all be some sort of collective hallucination? Well that’s my best guess too.” She continued despite Bucky and Clint’s confused looks. “I think an alternate reality would be more... comprehensive?  It seems strange that only our own lives and the lives of the people around us that have been altered, and in the cases of our friends and family and such, they’ve only been altered in ways that relate to us.”

“That doesn’t explain why the three of us know it’s fake.” Clint said through a mouth of fries.

“No, my guess is that’s for another reason.”

“And that is?” Bucky said as he finished his milkshake with a slurp.

“The three of us have, at some point, had our minds compromised for a long period of time. Makes it harder to do again.”

Clint murmured in agreement, like that made all the sense in the world, and then said, “So what do we do? In my experience, the best approach in these situations is to hit people in the head really hard.” He gave Natasha a knowing smirk, and Bucky had the distinct impression there was another story there.

Natasha shook her head. “But that doesn’t solve the main problem. Which is we are still stuck in this... thing. Making them aware of the situation wouldn’t do much to solve it.” She paused. “At least that’s not my first course of action. There is one more person I’d like to see. I’ve been trying to keep tabs on any abnormal activity, in case there was anything we needed to respond to. And I think there is someone in New York we should talk to.”

“Care to share with the class?” Clint asked. Bucky felt relieved that Clint was as confused as he was.

Natasha just smiled enigmatically. “Let’s drop off the car and our stuff at your place.” She nodded at Bucky. “Then I’ll tell you.”

As they walked up the stairs of the Brooklyn apartment an hour later, Clint tapped his shoulder. “Do you think he’s here?”

“Who?” But Bucky realized exactly who before Clint could respond. “I don’t know. Probably?”

“Good. It would be nice to see him. In case...” But he didn’t have a chance to finish that thought because they walked into the living room, and indeed, Steve was sitting right there. There was tension written over his face, but he was well dressed, and looked almost _fashionable_ , if a button-down shirt and jeans could be fashionable. He looked surprised to see them, and confused, and maybe a tad annoyed.

Clint figured it out first. “Hot date tonight, Cap?” He said without any pretense that they hadn’t met before.

A lesser person would probably have said pointed out that he had no clue who Clint was, but Steve just stood up, held out his hand, and said, “You a friend of Bucky’s? It’s nice to meet you.”

Clint shook his hand with a huge grin over his face. “Yeah, something like that.”

Bucky scrambled to think of something to explain his extended absence and the unexpected visitors, but the best thing he could come up with was- “This is Clint, and you’ve already met Natasha.” He was expecting Steve to ask more, but Steve accepted the explanation without even a questioning glance and sat back down. He looked defeated. Bucky shared a look with the others, painfully aware that any line of questioning that could tease out what exactly was going on wouldn’t be appreciated in the company of people Steve barely knew. The irony was that in whatever real world they were supposed to be in, Steve probably knew these people better than he knew Bucky, at least the modern version.

Apparently Clint wasn’t this subtle. “Or was it a cold date?”

Steve looked at him with the same confused furrowed brow before the words sunk in. “Yeah. I guess. Didn’t even call to cancel.”

About ten different thoughts went through Bucky’s head at that moment. He had only an inkling of what was going on, but it was enough to put much of the rest of the story together. Instinctively, he tried to change the subject. “We were just going to drop some stuff off and get on the road again.”

Of course, the world had a way of revealing things. The whole room jumped at the sound of a loud car horn and Natasha peaked out the blinds to look at the street. “Is that... _Tony_?”

Clint and Bucky were immediately at the window. Sure enough, standing outside a car that probably cost more than the entire block combined, was Tony Stark. “What the hell?”

Steve jumped up. If Bucky didn’t have years of experience with the guy, he wouldn’t have caught the small smile on his face. Steve grabbed his coat and left the apartment without saying goodbye. Through the door, Bucky could hear him taking the stairs three at a time. From the window, they could watch as he jumped into the car.

“What was that?” Natasha said slowly.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you if there were any details of their relationship that I don’t know about.” Bucky said, thinking about how much more tragic everything would be if Steve and Tony had a romantic past.

Clint was still staring in disbelief. “No, no, no, no, no.”

“If there was, I’d know about it. So, there wasn’t.” Natasha responded matter-of-factly. Bucky breathed a sigh of relief he didn’t realize he was holding in.

“And Steve never had any...” He tried to think of the right word. “ _outward_ _interest_ in men?”

“Maybe.” Natasha said, which was more equivocal then her last statement. “But he never said anything of it, and never indicated anything.”

Bucky shook his head. “I thought you know... modern times and all... he’d be more comfortable.”

Clint finally tore his eyes away from the street. “So back in the day... Cap was into dudes?”

“He never said anything. And I never asked. But, yeah, I think so.”

“Any proof?” Natasha asked.

Bucky shrugged. “Nothing really. Just a hunch.”

Clint looked at Natasha and said, “We really could have used this information before.”

“Why?” Bucky asked.

Natasha gave Clint a look. “We used to try and set him up. It never worked.”

“We had a club. The get-Cap-laid club.” Clint said brightly.

Natasha rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t a club. You, Sam, and I trying to figure out who to introduce him to is not a club.”

“How about council, cabal ... wait ignore that. The verbiage isn’t important.”

Bucky smiled. “Oh, there’s definitely a club. I’m practically the club’s founding member.”

She shook her head. “But this doesn’t make sense. He’s married to Peggy. Or was.”

Bucky felt a pang of guilt as he remembered that Steve was supposed to finalize the divorce sometimes this week. He should have called.

“It doesn’t have to be an either/or type of thing.”

“Maybe he was secretly in love with Tony?” Clint offered. “And that’s why he never agreed to see anyone we suggested?”

“Are you sure there was never anything between the two of them?” Bucky tried to ask again.

“I didn’t know Tony likes guys. Which is weird, the guy isn’t known for his secrets.” Clint said, ignoring the question.

“He used to keep it on the down-low. I found it when I was investigating him for SHEILD. And I guess in the last ten years he’s been with Pepper, so it wouldn’t really have come up.”  She stopped, clearly trying to figure out the problem in front of her. “If those two had even a drunk kiss together, we’d know. It’s impossible for them to be discreet and reasonable when the other is involved.”

Clint got wide-eyed. “Oh god. If those two hooked-up, it would cause an international incident. Actually - scratch that. Them having a political disagreement caused an international incident. This would go galactic.”

Bucky couldn’t believe it based on what he had seen so far. “So, you’re saying there isn’t a chance their Steve and Tony’s relationship couldn’t have been more than friendly?”

“No!” Clint and Natasha said at the same time, but then she added, “I’m not saying it couldn’t happen or anything. Just that I don’t believe it already has. The more I think about it... I guess it makes some sense? Tony and Steve... I swear it could be the end of the world, and they would be bickering about something or the other. But they would still be together. Their friendship was... intense.”

“Shame it all went to hell.” Clint muttered and shook his head. “They’ve got so much baggage, there is no way it could happen.”

“You’re saying Steve and Tony would need to be in some sort of alternate dream state, removed their past history, in order to realize they really just want to be together?” Bucky asked with a smirk.

“Uh, when you put it that way…” Clint conceded. “What’s the priority- talking to this friend of yours or preventing galaxy-wide destruction? Because you know the minute we reverse this whole hallucination thing and go back to normal, they are going to kill each other.”

It wasn’t the first time Bucky stood there, trying to fit the pieces together of the man he knew and the man these people knew. He could remember back before when they were flying to volcano-lab-thing, seeing Stark looking devastated in the corner of the quinjet. Certainly, that didn’t come from nowhere? But he didn’t have the time to pursue this line of questions.

“We go to Greenwich Village.” Natasha declared. She looked sad and thoughtful. “Let the guys have their fun while they can. Lord only knows what waits for them when they wake up.”

 

\---------------

 

“I’m really glad it’s going well.” Steve said before he took a bite of Pad Thai. They were sitting on Tony’s penthouse couch eating takeout. The thought was that they would watch a movie up here, but they hadn’t started it yet. Normally the city-at-night view would have been distracting enough, but Tony kept grabbing his attention from the skyline. He had been animatedly discussing all the positive press the promotion of Pepper Potts was causing.  His eyes were lit up, and Steve wondered if there was anything that made himself so excited.

“I can’t wait for the stock markets on Monday. I should have done this sooner. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“So, what’s next?” Steve asked.

“For SI? Pepper’s been talking about autonomous vehicles, maybe stepping out and creating some sort of streaming service.”

“Like television?”

Tony smiled. “Yeah. Maybe we’ll produce our own shows. Or just create something that works with everything that’s already out there. But better.”

“Oh, it will definitely be better.” Steve could feel his eyes widen in disbelief. He must seem like such a simpleton.  “But I didn’t mean SI. I meant you. What’s next for you?”

“Well I’ve been quickly disavowed of the illusion that I’ll have more free time, if that’s what you’re asking.” Tony leaned back and looked at the ceiling. “It means I get a little more freedom. Not necessarily less public scrutiny. But SI’s bottom-line won’t be as tied to my misbehavior.” He turned to look at Steve with a sad smile.

“So, you can make mistakes.” Steve knew what that was like, feeling the enormous weight of representing something greater than yourself.

“I’ve made plenty of mistakes. But now I can make new ones.” He gave Steve a look that made his chest flutter.

They must have been sitting there for at least an hour, talking and sharing these glances. Instinct was telling him to put down the takeout carton, lean closer, and kiss the man already. But his better judgment seemed to have been left at the door, because instead of doing that, he said, “I didn’t think you were going to come.”

Tony looked thoughtful. “I didn’t think I would.” He sighed and looked directly into Steve’s eyes. “I don’t... I don’t know what it is about you. But something in my brain keeps throwing up these red flags. I feel prematurely angry at you for something I’m not sure that is even going to happen.”

Fear gripped Steve. This was so close to going right. “What are you worried I will do?”

“It’s not anything specific. I just have this general unease.” He walked to the bar and poured himself a drink, but kept his eye contact. “It’s going to sound really... really strange.”

“You can tell me.” Steve said. He felt that way, but the fear in his voice made him sound hesitant.

“I promise this isn’t some sort of bedroom talk- but you remind me of my dad.”  Steve didn’t know what to say to that, so with his silence, Tony continued. “He used to talk about these guys, back from the war. These larger than life guys, great men who did great things and managed to be humble about it. I think it was that last thing- the humility- that really stuck with him. It’s certainly what he talked about the most. Which is weird, if you’ve ever met my dad.” He stopped to take a long drink, before continuing. “Anyway, now I can see that was just my dad’s way of expressing how much he hated himself, constantly talking up these people he could never be, even though most people would say he was great man. But he would never be one of those men- daring, sure- but humble, selfless? That wasn’t my dad. And when I was a kid, I didn’t know that. Didn’t understand what it was like to be an adult and hate yourself. I just knew what it was like to be a kid and hate yourself. And all these stories of these impossible feats of heroism, these weren’t stories I was being told to inspire me. They were expectations I could never meet.” Tony paused and Steve could tell he was trying to think of the proper way of putting what he was about to say. “On paper, it feels like you came somewhere out of my dad’s stories. It doesn’t surprise me that he invented the technology that made the whole super-soldier thing possible. And I’m sure if you two ever met, he’d be over the moon. But it turns out you aren’t just some war hero, invented to make me feel like I won’t measure up, no matter how many patents I file for. You are this person underneath all that, and it’s that person who scares me.”

Steve knew there was even more deep underneath what Tony was saying. But this, this was so personal, made him so vulnerable, that he felt moved. “I’m so sorry Tony.”

“Why? It’s not your fault my dad was a jackass.” Tony said, trying to sound casual but failing.

“But I am though. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“But you will.” He poured himself another drink. “And that’s ok. I’m trying to be ok with that.”

Steve shook his head. “You shouldn’t have to be.”

“You know, when my dad died, I tried to give away anything that was his. Auctioned off a lot of it, donated it to charity. Even burned a few choice objects. But the older I get, the more I’m realizing that all of that was just crap, and I haven’t been able to get as much distance from him as I thought. And I’m trying to change that.”

“What would your dad say, if he saw us here?” Steve gestured to the takeout cartons like they suggested something deeper than just dinner.

“I’m sure he’d love that Captain America agreed to get Thai with me.” Tony said with a suggestive smirk. “But I don’t think he would have liked the type of thoughts I have about you.”

“Is that why I didn’t know you dated men?”

“That, and the media tends to jump on it.”

“You don’t strike me as the type of person who cares what the media thinks.”

“And what about you? I’m sure it would have made headlines if you came out.” Tony said defensively.

“There never was any time.”

“That’s your excuse?” Tony gave him a look like he was seeing right past him, but his tone was more playful than judging.

“First, I wasn’t 100% sure, ok? And then I was in the Army-”

“And Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.” Tony filled in.

“Exactly. And I met Peggy-”

“And fell monogamously in love.”

“Yeah-”

“And then you were married, till like two days ago. Hence, no time.” Tony finished.

“Yes. Thank you for summarizing my life story better than I could have.”

Tony walked towards him, stopping only right in front of where Steve was sitting. He looked up to stare at Tony, who was smiling wickedly.

Tony downed the rest of his drink as his eyes lit up. “What is it that you do again?”

“I’m an art student.”  Steve said, a little annoyed. He must have said this before.

Tony ignored his tone, however. “Have I told you about the priceless works of art I’ve acquired throughout the years? You’d be surprised how much of it is on display in the penthouse.” He raised his eyes suggestively and Steve’s heart skipped a beat. “Would you like a tour?”

He got up so quickly he bumped right into Tony. But instead of backing up, Tony stayed where he was, so Steve was virtually eye to eye with him. At this distance, Steve could smell Tony’s cologne. His brain was going foggy- there seemed to be something he was supposed to be doing right now, whether it was leaning forward and kissing him, or finding some way out of this situation, but instead he felt stuck in the moment, looking at the flecks of gold in Tony’s eyes.

Tony, however, didn’t seem to be suffering from the same paralysis, and closed the little distance between them. The kiss was sudden, but when it happened it seemed both inevitable and perfect, like the culmination of entire lifetimes. Instantly, Steve found that he knew exactly what to do. If before he was worried that kissing a man would be different, he now had proof that his mind was functioning in a way that it didn’t matter. His arms snaked around Tony’s body, almost lifting him up in an attempt to gain some leverage and deepen the kiss.

However, Steve uncharacteristically (blame it on the surprise) lost his balance and fell back into the couch. Tony didn’t miss a beat, straddling him effortlessly without breaking contact.

He broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against Tony’s, and muttered, “Can we postpone the tour?”

“And I was so looking forward to showing you that Gerhard Richter in the bedroom.” Tony said with a laugh. He went back to kissing him, before breaking it off himself to say, more serious this time, “This is where I tell you this never works out for me.”

“This is where I tell you I’m 0 for 1 at these sorts of things.” Steve half panted, unable to say three words in a row without kissing another part of Tony’s neck.

“Mmmm.... A baseball metaphor.” He practically purred and then began to fumble with the top button on Steve’s shirt. “I wonder if you’ll let me get to second base.”

While Tony continued to unbutton, Steve began to slip his hands up the back of Tony’s shirt.

It was probably because he was too engrossed in touching every inch of Tony’s back that it took him a few moments to notice something was happening at the edge of his vision, and a few more moments to tear himself away and see the growing bright light. It took no time after that to scramble to his feet, catching Tony from tumbling down a few seconds too late. In front of him was Bucky and his two friends from earlier, as well as a strangely dressed man. Behind them orange sparks were fading away.

“Pardon the interruption.” Said the man he hadn’t met before.

“You were right!” Clint screamed at Bucky. At least Steve was pretty sure his name was Clint.

A wave of panic gripped Steve and he hastily tried to button up his shirt. He hadn’t told Bucky yet- he was going to get around to it but when he finally looked at Bucky, he had a wide, toothy smile.

Tony, on the other hand, wasn’t concerned about surprising his best friend. “Who the fucking hell are you and… Natasha, why the hell are you… How did you get in… Someone better explain this right now. You got 30 seconds before F.R.I.D.A.Y. calls security.”

“Tony, we aren’t here to hurt you. We are here to talk to you. It’s important.” Natasha (she was definitely Natasha) said calmly. “What we are about to say might sound crazy. You should sit down.”


	7. Chapter 7

Tony was defiantly standing at the bar and taking advantage of the proximity to alcohol. He was having a surprisingly good time watching these people trying to convince Steve of their crazy story, all the while working with F.R.I.D.A.Y. to figure out how the hell they got into his penthouse in the first place.

“So- you’re saying that this right here is some sort of hallucination, and that instead of being an art student, I’m really a superhero from World War II?” Steve asked, incredulous.

“Well, you’re a superhero in the present. You just fought in the war.” Natasha patiently explained. She probably was how they had broken in, but F.R.I.D.A.Y. couldn’t figure out where exactly they had entered. Tony was going to have to fire her when this was done, which almost made him sad.

“That must make me about one hundred.”

“Yeah, you are crazy old. It’s actually hilarious.” Said one of the guys whose name Tony did not want to learn. This one did not have facial hair.

Natasha took a deep breath. “Your body was placed in suspended animation when you were frozen. You look like you do now.”

“It’s really unfair.”

Steve looked to his friend. “Bucky? Is this true?”

“Oh, come on, you can’t be really be buying all this crap?” Tony said, loudly. He was beginning to lose his patience with this farce.

But instead of breaking down laughing and revealing this for the elaborate prank it was, Bucky (what grown man was named Bucky?), looked Steve in the eye and said seriously, “Yes, it is. You have no idea how much I wish I was lying.”

Steve, bless his heart, looked like he was seriously considering the possibility. With is shirt all askew because he had buttoned it so fact, he should have looked adorable, if he hadn’t behaving like an insane person. “I just cannot believe it. It doesn’t make any sense.”

“Ok, the jokes over. Everyone out.” Tony pointed to the door. “Thanks for ruining a perfectly good date.”

“This isn’t a joke.” Said the other nameless man, the one with the silly goatee. He looked like he wouldn’t know a joke if it exploded in front of his face.

“Yeah, jokes are funny. This is trespassing. Now GET OUT!”

“Tony!” Natasha stood up. “I know none of this makes sense. But we need you to take us seriously.”

“No, we actually don’t.” Goatee said. “We just need Captain Roger’s willing participation.”

“OH COME ON. I’ll humor you for a second. Does this mean all of you superheros? You got names, secret identities, powers?” Tony was almost shouting, he was so exasperated.

Natasha crossed her arms in a defiance. “We don’t do secret identities. Kinda hard in this day and age. But if you are going to be difficult.” She said it like he was always difficult. “I’m Black Widow, this is Hawkeye, Steve’s Captain America. And you are Iron Man.”

“Iron Man?” He did like the sound of that, he should have thought of it sooner. “I turn metal or something?” He asked sarcastically.

“No, you operate a flying metal suit with repulsors that runs on an arc reactor.”

Steve looked at him like this somehow filled an important part of the puzzle, but Tony was unimpressed. “There’s no way to create an arc reactor small enough to power a mech suit, if that’s what you’re saying.” Except... now that he was thinking about it, maybe he could? Theoretically, if he made a few tweeks to the existing design... He felt a familiar itch to go into the basement workshop when this was over. “Still doesn’t mean anything besides you’ve read more about me than what’s in the tabloids.”

Natasha glared at him, and then turned her attention to Steve, clearly giving up on convincing Tony of anything. Which was probably best for everyone after all. “Steve, how long have you been going to art school?”

“Since I left the army.” He responded at once.

“Which was six years ago. When do you go to class?”

Steve pursed his lips. “I’m taking the semester off.” He didn’t sound sure.

“You don’t.” She said definitely. “Unless you are doing so under a pseudonym. I can’t find any record of you in the area schools.”

Tony poured himself another glass of scotch. Steve didn’t look like he had been caught in a lie, but that was more believable than magic. Magic wasn’t real.

“What about me? If you are saying that this ‘fake’ reality is riddled with inconsistencies, where is the inconstancy in my life?”

“We can’t find any.”

“Ok, then you can’t prove anything. Besides that, Steve possibly took too many hits to the head and has lost his grip on reality.”

Steve looked genuinely hurt, and Tony immediately regretted saying it. Or at least phrasing it like that. Everyone was quite for a second, till Steve finally spoke up. “The shield. You kept your Dad’s shield. Said you were sentimental about it.” He paused, working through the problem in his head. Tony could almost see him evaluating all plausible possibilities. “But you also said you couldn’t get rid of anything he had fast enough.” Steve finished, looking Tony right in the eye with a defiance born of hurt.

“You have Cap’s shield?!” The non-goatee guy exclaimed.

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“You have the largest concentration of vibranium outside of Wakanda, and you just let it gather dust?” Natasha asked steadily.

“Maybe I was trying to preserve it.” But as soon as he said it, he knew it was wrong. The truth was he didn’t really have an explanation. Then something else stopped that train of thought. “Wait- how did you know it was vibranium?”

“Everyone on earth knows Captain America’s shield is made of vibranium.”

Tony found he didn’t have a clever retort to that, so he didn’t say anything. Steve was giving him a look he was trying very hard to avoid.

Finally, Steve gave up trying to meet his eyes and asked the others. “What do I have to do?”

“The best I can tell, this started with some sort of blood magic, most likely using yours. We have to use your blood to reverse it.” This guy must have been the ‘magic’-expert.

“Steve, you don’t have to do this.” Tony weekly protested. He had the distinct impression that there was nothing he could say to discourage him. But he at least wanted to be able to say he tried.

“Captain, we would not require a lot. But you must freely give it, otherwise it will not work.”

Steve imminently started to roll up his sleeve.

“Do you understand how crazy this is?” Tony asked.

“Is it any more crazy than the super solider serum?” He responded with the slightest grin. Damn him, he was enjoying this. “Plus, I’ve been poked and prodded most of my life. What’s the harm this one more time?”

Tony sighed. What could he do but stand here and watch this revealed for the prank it was? That thought made him sadder than it should have.

“Actually-” Bucky started “It may not be that easy.”

“What’d you mean?”

Bucky looked over at the others. “We should tell him.”

“Tell me what?” Steve asked.

Natasha seemed to be considerably torn about whatever Bucky was talking about.

“He deserves to know.” Bucky said with more force.

“Yes. Yes, he does.” She reluctantly agreed. “Steve, back... back in the real world, the last time we saw you, you were very badly injured. Barely alive. And...” She turned to the others, clearly deciding how much she should say and then continued on with determination. “Dr. Strange says all of this has been happening in real time. And if that’s true, that means you’ve been that injured for over a week.”

“I can still detect your life force.” Said goatee-guy. “But it is weak. And it is fading.”

“Who did this?”

“Your captors.”

“ _Our_ captors.” Corrected the other man.

“Trust me, I wouldn’t have interrupted you if it wasn’t time sensitive.” Natasha concluded.

“Trust you?! If any of this is true, then you are asking him to just return to certain death. Why would he do that?” Tony exclaimed before he could convince himself he didn’t believe in any of this.

But they didn’t respond. Instead it was Steve who said, “Because it sounds like all of you are being held prisoner too. And you can’t get out till we do this.”

Tony was startled with the clarity in which Steve said that. He knew this man who the media had nicknamed ‘Captain America’ was known for his valor and his selflessness. But seeing it was different. It didn’t matter that the situation wasn’t real. Steve clearly thought it was, and watching him willfully agree to this shook Tony to his core.

_I’ll never be that good_ , he thought. But instead of feeling reflexive anger, he felt more determined to try and be better.

“Wait!” he shouted without thinking. When everyone was looking at him, Tony realized he had to say what he was thinking out loud. “Can I, before you do this, which by the way I think is complete bullshit and in no way possible, can I have a second alone with Steve?” He finished, feeling embarrassed with the way everyone was looking at him.

Well, not everyone. There was a glint in Steve’s eyes that made it almost worth it. He got up immediately, not waiting for the others to agree, and began to walk to the hallway, trusting Tony to follow him.

Tony could just imagine Rhodey telling him he was whipped, because he immediately joined him.

“I know you don’t believe in any of this.” Steve said with a fond smile.

“It’s actually insane. Like I’m not sure we can go on another date if you are this gullible.” When Steve looked hurt, Tony added, “I said I’m not sure. Right now, I’m leaning towards just letting it slide.”

“Bucky wouldn’t lie to me. And they got a point. There is so much in my life that doesn’t make sense. And you-” Steve stopped speaking and bit his lip. “Somehow you got under my skin, and I don’t think that would have happened if we didn’t have some other connection. I’ve never been this open with another person.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. Sometimes people just click.” But when Steve began to protest, he said, “But I know I can’t convince you. Just... If it’s true. If I’m wrong, and trust me it takes a lot for me to say that, when we get back, Iron Man is going to save you.”

Steve smiled, clearly not knowing how to respond to that. But after a moment he gave up, threaded his fingers along the back of Tony’s neck, leaned down and kissed him.

Tony wasn’t sure how long the kiss lasted. It wasn’t as hungry as before, but it felt all-encompassing. So much so, that he forgot there were people in the other room till someone cleared their throat. He pulled away reluctantly.

“I hope we get to do that on the other side.” Steve said sheepishly.

“There is no way we aren’t already.” Tony responded with certainty.

“Captain, we need you to sit here.” Goatee-guy pointed to the center of some elaborate collection of candles that hadn’t been there before.

“No time like the present.” Steve said good naturedly, but Tony thought he heard fear, somewhere deep down.

Tony watched from the hallway as Steve followed the man’s instructions. Dr. Strange used some sort of ceremonial knife to make a small cut on Steve’s finger, and then began to mumble something.

He stopped immediately around the time it felt like someone had kicked Tony’s head in. He fell to the ground and everything went to black.

 

\---------

 

Bucky work up immediately with an instant grasp on his surroundings. He was sitting in an uncomfortable position with his legs and one arm chained to a brick wall. It was cold, but not frozen-in-ice cold, and he had a nasty headache. There was also a stiffness in his body not unlike what he felt when he was being defrosted, but that was to be expected when you have been in the same position for the last week.

The rest of them were there and were waking up more slowly. Well except Steve, who looked to be in the same position he was when they found him and was covered in dry blood. Bucky began to strain against his restraints, trying to find any weaknesses he could exploit, but it didn’t help. Clint and Natasha seemed to be doing the same thing without speaking, probably running though all the possible exits they had been trained to prepare for. Sam and Tony looked dazed and groggy.

Bucky was just about to say something when the room went dark and a hazy, and a translucent figure in green suddenly was standing in the corner. He seemed to take over the entire room and spoke with a sweet and comforting voice that gave Bucky the chills. “Well I guess the jig is up. Wakey wakey.”

“Loki, what did you do?!” Clint yelled through gritted teeth.

“Well I kept you perfectly safe. Even the good captain here. Remember that detail when you see my brother, he’s bound to take this the wrong way.” Loki responded with a sneer.

“Where’s Thor?” Natasha asked, looking more angry than Bucky could remember ever seeing her.

“Damned if I know! That’s the million dollar question. He must not be around if he didn’t come here to save you. Sorry about that.” He didn’t sound sorry at all.

“Wait, you did all of this to try and get Thor’s attention?” Tony asked slowly, slurring his words.

“Shame it didn’t work.” Loki shrugged. “I know how resourceful you all are, so I’ll let you figure out how to get out of this. Maybe there are still some people on this island to help.”

“LOKI-” Clint screamed, but he was gone as fast as he had appeared, and the room was back to being painfully bright.

“What do we do now?” Sam asked, seeming to be gaining more awareness of the situation.

“We get out of here. Immediately.”

But then a man dressed in the same black clothes as the goons from earlier was walking into the room. “Not so fast. I was promised something.” He was looking at Bucky. “Gods apparently don’t pay well. But I know a lot of people who would pay for you. I’m sure Hydra would love to have their attack dog back. Or what about Boko Haram? I’m sure they’d pay well for the best weapon money could buy.”

Bucky could hear Natasha wiggling next to him, fighting her restraints fiercely, but a fatalist fear began to fill him. There was no way out.

The man had a satisfied grin and Bucky hated him. Hated himself. Hated what was about to happen, what always happened. The man began to speak, but Bucky knew the words, like they were a mantra stuck in his mind he wanted to claw out. He tried to struggle free and knew that if he had his arm he could do it. He realized he couldn’t and looked to Natasha. It was with immense relief that he could see she was aiming some gun she must have hidden somewhere on her body, even though her hands were still restrained.

She would do what needed to be done. She would protect the rest of them from him. Natasha looked Bucky right in the eye, right before he knew he was about to lose himself, and he watched her fire. He nodded at her, hoping that she would know he would always be grateful for this.

Besides him, the man never got to finish the last word, because he fell with a crash. It took a while for Bucky to put all the pieces together- the man writhing in pain as blood began to pool around his shoulder, Natasha’s fifty-yard stare, him sitting there in full control of himself.

“You shot him.” Sam said, expressing exactly what Bucky was thinking.

“He’ll be fine.” Natasha confidently responded. “That is if he gets medical attention in the next couple hours. He was going to hurt a member of the team. Something needed to be done. Now let’s get out of here.” She looked around, taking stock of the entire situation. “Tony, where’s the suit?”

He looked at her for a second, trying to decipher what she was saying before nodding his head once and fumbling with something one handily. Immediately a portion of red armor covered his left hand.  The extra bulk broke the cuff and then with his free hand, he was able to open up the other restraint before moving to the ones around his legs.

Once free he scrambled to Steve and began to methodically breaking him free. “Tony!” Natasha yelled, trying to get his attention. “Us first. He’s not going anywhere.” Tony reluctantly agreed with her logic and soon they were all free. “We don’t know if anyone else is on base. Tony, you get Steve to the quinjet, we’ll meet you there. Please fight the impulse to leave without us if you can.”

Now entirely in the Iron Man suit, he gingerly picked Steve up and began to slowly levitate out the room without a word.

“Is he going to be ok?” Sam asked. 

“Loki must have been using some sort of spell to keep us in suspended animation. He certainly didn’t feed us in the last week. So… Steve’s probably got time, but not enough for me to promise you anything.”

Clint picked up the groaning man on the floor in a fireman’s carry, probably more roughly than necessary, and then walked quickly through the maze of hallways. Even though none of them remembered being put in the room, the rest of the place seemed to follow the same logic as the base. On a different day, Bucky would have been worried that they weren’t encountering anyone else, but now he knew they had to leave as soon as possible

They had just exited the volcano and began running through the thick jungle, trying to follow the same path Bucky and Natasha had made when they were walking in, when Sam said suddenly, “So I had the weirdest dream.”

“Wasn’t a dream.” Clint replied. “What do I know, maybe it was. Any clowns?”

“No clowns. I was working my old job, except I knew Steve and Bucky already. And both of you were there too. It was one of those dreams where you end just going about your day. Like nothing weird happened or anything.” Sam paused, seemed unsure if he should say what he was thinking. “Except it lasted a whole week and Steve was into Tony.”

“Yeah, not a dream.”

“We all had that happen. It was probably something to keep our minds under control.” Natasha tried to explain. “I remember seeing you, interacting with all of you, and um... The whole thing with Steve and Tony.”

“Yeah, that was... weird.” Sam said slowly, sounding like he wasn’t sure if he believed that.

Clint murmured in agreement. “It was magic. We had this guy help us out - we should probably thank him at some point, right?”

“I wonder if _they_ -” Sam motioned ahead of himself by nodding his head, “-remember.”

“I just hope we can keep Steve alive along to find out.” Bucky said, less concerned about the complicated team dynamics. They weren’t going to be his team, right?

Back on the quinjet, Steve was laying on the floor while Tony tried to administer basic first aid. It mostly seemed to consist of Tony trying to wash some of the blood off and placing bandages wherever there was a rip in the uniform. Sam quickly shooed him away, grabbing scissors from the box at Tony’s feet and cutting through the bloodstained clothes, taking the gauze with it. Without the uniform, Bucky could see the extent of Steve’s injuries. It looked bad. And judging by the group’s silence, they seemed to agree. Sam and Clint began to reapply bandages wordlessly. Bucky was just about to say something about leaving right this minute, but someone else must have read his mind because the quinjet took off without announcement.

Bucky, feeling useless, watched as Natasha sat down in the co-pilot’s seat next to Tony. “I can do this, if you want.” She said kindly.

“I built this thing. I’m pretty sure I can push it the hardest.”

Natasha just smiled, so subtly that you could barely see it. “Where are we going?” Judging by Tony’s silence, he didn’t even know. “Wakanda is closest. And T’Challa has some of the best medical facilities in the world.” She said without any judgment in her voice. Tony nodded in acknowledgment. After a few minutes, Natasha asked, “How much do you remember?”

Bucky sat there, listening intently. Tony was silent for so long Bucky wasn’t sure if he was just ignoring the question. And then, almost to himself, he muttered, “Too much.”


	8. Chapter 8

The first thing Steve noticed when he woke up was the pain he felt all over his body. It was an intense kind of soreness - not burned but broken. He tried to open his eyes a few times, but it just amplified the pressure in his head, so he waited there, attempting to gain situational awareness with his other senses. The bed beneath him was soft, and the beeping and whirring he was hearing must have been medical machinery, and some sort of gentle light filling wherever he was, he could feel it from behind his eyelids.

Was this a hospital? More likely a laboratory. He tried to make sense of his memories, hoping they would answer that question for him. Yet, Steve found that he had two sets of memories. Or one set of memories that was clearly correct and another that he wished was.

It was strange trying to make sense of anything. Had he just been in Tony’s penthouse? But why? The man hated him, and with good reason.

And before all of it he had been on the run and then there had been the Red Skull and suddenly he was sleeping on Bucky’s couch in an apartment that could have been a perfect carbon copy of the one they shared before the war.

Peggy had been there. She had been alive and beautiful and brilliant and... it hadn’t worked out. They had been together, had been _married_. At least he got to say goodbye this time and do it right.

It was very difficult to remind himself that falling back asleep wasn’t an option. Steve tried to open his eyes again, but was greeted with searing pain that made him groan. He instantly quieted and listened intently, knowing that if he was indeed in hostile territory, he had just tipped his hand.

“Steve?” Said a voice. It sounded like Tony, but the Tony from the real memories. The Tony that hated him.

Still, he wouldn’t ever do anything to Steve. At least when he was in this vulnerable of a position.

“Steve, are you awake?” Tony asked, sounding closer. Steve tried to speak, but it only came out as a groan. “I’ll get the doctor.” And then Tony was gone. Steve could hear the door close. A wave of exhaustion overtook him, and he wished he could tell him to not to bother. He was just going to pass out, anyway.

An unknown amount of time later, Steve drifted awake again. This time the pain was less intense and he could open his eyes, even if his head was still throbbing. He tried again to get stock of his situation, though craning his head upright to see more than the ceiling took more effort than it should have.

This was a hospital. There was too much outside light and too many comfort features to be some baddie’s lab. In the same chair Steve assumed Tony had been sitting in, Bucky was sleeping with his head tipped back.

Well, that was confounding.

Steve tried to speak up but found again his mouth was too dry to do more than just groan. Instead he lifted his hand and tried to knock it around on the bed, which managed to do the trick.

Bucky jerked upright and grumbled, “Are you really awake this time?”

Steve tried to give him his most disproving glare, but given that Bucky just laughed, it must not have worked.

“Good to see this ordeal hasn’t changed you.” Bucky said with a grin before raising a glass of water before Steve. Steve managed to drink through the straw. It took him a few tries to get his mouth to move in the right way, but he asked what happened.

“Do we have to do this now? Natasha said a lot about debriefing you when you woke up. Let’s just wait for that.” Bucky looked silently happy.

“Where are we?” Steve croaked.

“Can’t just sit here and be glad you’re alive, huh?” Bucky said, trying to sound disapproving but looking anything but. “Wakanda. Specifically, in the king’s personal medical center. Don’t worry, we’re safe.”

“Who’s here?”

“We got the whole gang. Natasha, I said that already. Clint. Sam.”

“I saw Tony.”

“Oh, he’s here.” Bucky said without elaborating.

There was a lot Steve wanted to say, and even more he wanted to ask, but it seemed like Bucky was content with letting things be.

Steve was just beginning to fill in the gaps. “It wasn’t just a dream, huh?”

“Definitely not _just_ a dream.” Bucky responded with a small sad sigh.

“Bucky-” Steve started. What could he say? It seemed that he needed to explain what had happened. That he had been hiding something about himself from his best friend for years. He didn’t need to apologize, but it seemed like this demanded something more. “About the whole Tony thing-”

Bucky cut him off. “I’m not sure I can give you advice on that. There are definitively nuances with your whole relationship I’m only beginning to notice, and I’m pretty sure I’ll never completely understand. But for what it’s worth, I’m sure there are a lot of places he needs to be, and he’s still here. Even if he’s avoiding everyone and moping around.” Bucky said, almost conspiratorially. “You could probably go for it, if you want to, at least.”

Steve wasn’t expecting any of that. “No I meant to talk about... the other thing.” Despite it being obvious, he chickened out on saying it aloud, which made him feel like a coward. And that was something Steve never was, so he tried again. “Liking men. I should have told you sooner.” He knew why he hadn’t, but all those reasons sounded silly right now.

“Honestly Steve, I get it. We lived in a different time.”

“It was a different time.” Steve repeated.

“I would like to think that back then, I wouldn’t have responded like an idiot or something like that. But I’m not sure. I know I definitely didn’t have the words to talk about it.” He said thoughtfully. “But now that I know, it doesn’t matter. Or it does, but only because I don’t want you to feel like you can’t talk to me about it.”

There wasn’t anything Steve could say to that, so they sat there in silence for a few moments till Natasha ducked her head in the room. “How are you feeling?”

“Stiff. And glad.”

“Anyone else in your position would have died. And I’m sick of telling you that.” She admonished him. “What were you thinking, going there alone? You should have called Sam or me. At least you could have told us where you were going. It would have saved us a lot of heartache.”

“I didn’t have much time.”

“Yet, if you had just contacted us...” Natasha gave a huge sigh and sat down. “It was a trap. And all of us walked straight into it without thinking.” She gave him a general overview of everything that happened. Steve listened patiently, waiting to ask questions till she was done.

“Whose decision was it to wake up Bucky?”

“Mine, though Tony had my back.” She responded, reading into what he was trying to ask. “He was very concerned. Though maybe that’s a little more obvious now.”

She wasn’t going to elaborate without prompting. Natasha was very good at saying only what she meant to, and no more. “How is he?” Steve asked, his voice soft. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to ask.

“He’s hiding. So, I would say pretty shook up. He hasn’t talked to anyone since you woke up. If you were asking me for the full Tony Stark report, I’d say he’s avoiding what’s next.”

Bucky, who had been sitting there watching them speak finally spoke up. “And that is?”

“Well, I’m sure the first thing that has to happen is that the two of you need to talk to each other.”

“About what happened?”

“About how real it was. And what it means for both of you moving on from this. And what it means for the team as a whole.” Natasha said with finality. She was always good at boiling down problems to their component parts.

“Sounds like a lot to detangle.” Bucky cut in.

“It wouldn’t be the two of you if it was easy.” Natasha sounded preemptively exhausted.

That was deserved. Steve asked, “What do you think I should do?”

“Whatever you want. But I’d really prefer if we had a team again. This lone spy stuff is getting old for me.” Natasha gave a small laugh and smiled. “And it would be nice if we weren’t scattered when things like this happen.”

Steve was silent. What did he want? Returning back to how things were was impossible at this point- they had crossed too many lines. And maybe there was a time where Tony would forgive him, possibly a time where they could be friends again. But everything else Steve wanted, had trained himself for so long not to want, that just wasn’t going to happen. And he could try to swallow his pride and return to the compound if it was the right thing to do.

There was just no way returning was the right thing for Tony. No way he felt the same way. No way he would look him in the eyes again. They had been friends for so long, and even if that sort of relationship had been possible at some time, back in the beginning, it wasn’t possible now.

Steve was silent as he tried to see all the possible solutions, tried to evaluate them on their merits, and tried to find the best option.

“What happens to me?” Bucky asked, breaking his concentration.

Natasha furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t want to go back into the ice.”

“You don’t have to.” She responded, confused. Steve watched them, adding this new information to his evaluation. This decided it.

“She’s right. It was always your choice.”

“Seems like it confuses a lot of things.” Bucky thought aloud.

“No. It doesn’t... ok, maybe it does. But I’m glad. I really missed you.” Steve said honestly.

“Steve.” Natasha’s eyes fixed on him, breaking the moment. “I’m serious about being done with the whole ‘lone-wolf’ thing. Either we do this together, or we don’t do it at all. No more unilateral decisions made without the rest of us.”

He wasn’t sure if he could promise what she wanted, but it seemed he needed to try. “We should be a team. But I don’t think we’ll be able to do it openly.”

“Secret Avengers.” Natasha said, saying what he was thinking. “We could coordinate with Tony, take on what the accords won’t let him.”

“He’ll have to agree to it. But- yeah. That might be the best we can hope for.” And he meant it.  There wasn’t going to be a happy ending, but he could still do the right thing.

 

\--------

 

There was some error in his code, but no matter how many times he went over it, Tony couldn’t find it. He was sitting in a dark room surrounded by bits and pieces of whichever computers T’Challa had laying around and would let him tear apart. T’Challa had also offered him space in his own workshop, but it had too many windows. For things like this - things that required perfect concentration - he preferred a dark room and loud music. It was easier to forget the world outside, easier to be lost in the task at hand, easier to not think of anything.

So here he was, compiling the code for the fifth time knowing it would fail. It needed to be able to interface, and only interface, with the device that he was currently building in between being frustrated and being inspired to try something else. And it was supposed to impenetrable by anything Tony could throw at it, and yet it was still vulnerable to one program Tony had used to hack the DOD servers.

He was just about to delete the whole thing and start from scratch when Natasha barged in. “You should’ve knocked.” He said without looking up from the computer screen as a way of a greeting.

“We need to talk.” He could feel the heat of her gaze and refused to meet it. “All of us. As a group.”

“Now why would we do that?”

“I need you to not be a smart ass for once.”  He could hear the annoyance in her tone, and he’d be lying to himself if he didn’t enjoy it, just a little bit.

“I’m serious. You want to debrief the group? I don’t understand why we have to be in the same room to do that.” Tony said distantly. He had just noticed something in the code that could have been causing his problems.

“When are you going home?” She asked, changing the conversation. Tony supposed it was because she knew she wouldn’t get anywhere.

“When I’m done with this.” He motioned to the debris littering the small room.

Natasha let out a loud sigh and asked, completely serious. “Tony, what the hell are you doing?”

“Right now, or more existentially?” He responded lightly, trying to avoid the conversation that was inevitably coming. Maybe she would give up.

What was he thinking? She never gave up. “I’m pretty sure you can do whatever you are doing here back in New York. So why are you still here?” When he didn’t respond (time was short, and he might have just had a breakthrough), she added, “You know- you can just talk to him.”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” Tony said, but there wasn’t any heat in his words.

“He thinks you hate him. He won’t say it, but I can tell.”

“Maybe I do.” He wasn’t 100% sure how he felt about anything, at the moment. All he was sure of was that he needed a few more hours to make this device work. “What’s the plan? When are you guys getting on the road?”

“Probably in the next day. I’d like to stay here for longer, but Steve’s restless.” Tony tried not visibly wince at his name, and was only somewhat successful.

“Good. That’s good.”

“Tony... just talk to him. I know it’s weird now, but you can’t avoid him forever.”

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do.” He sighed, finally taking his eyes off the computer screen to look at her. “You were there. You know what happened. You know I can’t take it back. And now, after all this, you want me to look him in the eye and pretend like it didn’t happen? I’m fine pretending from all the way over here.”

She looked at him with pity, and for a quick moment he hated her. But he hated himself more. He had just spent the week seeing who he could have been if he hadn’t spent the bulk of his life with his head far up his ass, and it stung to know that there was a version of himself who had managed to do the right things when they needed to be done. If he hadn’t trusted Obie... if he had known better to discontinue SI’s weapon program... if he had been a better man… but it didn’t matter. None of that was real.

“Tony, what are you scared is going to happen?”

“Steve never though a lot of me before...” He said in explanation. It was vague, but saying anything more meant confirming his own feelings.

“He thinks the world of you. Has always thought the world of you.”

Tony let out a bitter laugh. Responding to that involved listing all the reasons it clearly wasn’t true and even Tony wasn’t that much a masochist.

“He does...” She tried to explain, but sighed instead, realizing it was futile.

He turned back to the code, and started to compile it again. He waited patiently to see if it would work, which had the added benefit of allowing him to avoid her eyes. “You didn’t tell me the full plan.”

“Secret Avengers.” Natasha said with no further explanation.

Tony immediately understood what she way saying. “We’ll coordinate, you guys do what we can’t.”

“Exactly. And when the inevitable world destroying evil guy shows up, we’ll be ready.”

Tony didn’t say that they’d be readier if they were all in the same place. If they could train together. If they could do more than just occasionally trade emails.

He knew that there were many reasons this would work, many more that it was the best possible scenario. But it was hard to shake the feeling that Steve, now with an opening to come home, had chosen to stay far away.

“That’s probably the best we can hope for.”  Tony said to himself as he began to type furiously into the computer. He looked up when he realized that Natasha hadn’t said anything and saw she was staring at him intensely.  “What is it?”

“That’s what Steve said.” And then she left Tony to his own thoughts.

It took another five hours for Tony to feel confident that he had in his hands the most secure communications device ever built. If he didn’t have a time crunch, or had access to everything in his workshop, he could have spent the next few weeks testing. But it would only confirm what Tony already knew.

Now that it was done, he would have to act fast or be left here doubting his choices. Or worse- left to his regrets. No, he had to do this or deal with another failure. Tony tried to use that momentum to get himself to stand up, pick up the communication device and the burner phone, and walk down the hallway to the room he had been avoiding since Steve had woken up all those hours ago. The door was closed and for a split second he contemplated leaving the device with a note for someone else to find. He could probably be in the air before anyone saw it.

He knocked, not wanting to wait till that became too attractive of an option.

“Come in.” And Tony did that before he could chicken out, too.

Steve was sitting at the foot of the hospital bed, leaning over to slip on his socks. He stopped when he saw Tony, clearly surprised. He looked healthy, if a little disheveled, as if he had just woken up from a long night’s sleep. Tony wouldn’t have been surprised if Steve planned to go on a run. It was impossible to square the man in front of him with his almost lifeless body from a few days ago. The memory of it felt like a punch in the gut, a reminder of why Tony was in this room and not on a plane back to the compound.

“Tony?” Steve asked, breaking his concentration and reminding him that he would have to say something at some point. He remembered at that moment that this was the first time they would be speaking since Siberia. Or at least, the first time they would be speaking with all their history. Two sets of opposing yet intertwined feelings fought for his soul. He could forgive Steve, had already forgiven him, but to do so was to admit that he wanted something more from him, even though he knew he shouldn’t. Which he would never admit.

“I’m done with this.” Tony said, his voice barely above a whisper. It sounded like he was yelling.  Steve stared at him, clearly listening with no intention to cut him off. Tony had to fight the urge to say something that would provoke a response. Instead he pulled the flip phone out of his pocket, held it up to make clear Steve saw it, and repeated. “I am so done with _this_.” And to illustrate his point he let it drop and stepped on it with a crunch. “I’m done with you sending me some third-rate phone you know I’m only going to use when it’s too late. Do you know how insecure this damn thing is? Now every intelligence agency on the globe has audio on me begging you to return my calls. You couldn’t even buy StarkTech.”

Steve looked shocked. “Tony...” He tried to say again, but Tony wasn’t having any of it.

“You made the unilateral decision that this was the best way to handle the situation. Like you always do. You think you know so much better than anyone else...” Tony paused, the anger rushing out of him in one fell swoop. “You did exactly as I did. What I’ve always done. Steve- we... we can’t keep doing this. We need to be able to communicate. To compromise. To keep each other from going off the deep end.”

“I... I agree.” Steve said after a moment. His eyes were locked onto Tony’s with a laser sharp focus.

Tony took a moment to breathe deeply, and then fished the new communications device out of his pocket. “You should use this when we need to communicate. It’s unhackable and runs on its own encryption code I programmed especially for this purpose. I know you are going to leave no matter how much I need you to stay-” Tony stopped suddenly, realizing when Steve’s eyes widened that he had just blurted out something he had promised himself he was never going to say. He had come here to swallow his pride and fix what was salvageable of their friendship because that was what he needed to do to save the world. But by the look on Steve’s face, he had now alienated him in some irreparable way.

“Tony...” Steve muttered, almost silently. He could still feel the weight of his name from across the room.

“Let’s just pretend I never said any of that. Except the part about needing to communicate.” Tony began to gingerly back away. “So, I’m going to just leave this right here-” He waved the device and set it on the chair next to him. “- And I’ll leave now. And if Avenegers’ stuff comes up- I’ll... I’ll... I’ll listen.”

Tony turned to leave but was immediately turned back around. The door behind him closed as he was backed up into it. They started kissing somewhere during the flurry of movement, and Steve’s body suddenly seemed everywhere around him. Tony closed his eyes in order to enjoy it. He didn’t have enough higher brain function to process more than Steve’s hands on his face and his mouth on his lips. It was every bit as good as it had been in the dream.

With a sigh the kiss ended but Steve stayed right there. It took a few seconds for Tony to open his eyes and register Steve staring at him. He looked like he was searching for something written on Tony’s features.

“You want me to stay?” Steve whispered, sounding vulnerable in a way Tony never thought Steve could be.

“That’s what your fixated on? I built an entirely new system of encryption just for you.”  Tony tried say in a flippant way, just in case he was reading this all wrong.

“You’d do that for anyone.” Steve said with more confidence. Something about that settled it.

“Not just anyone.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

“Do I want you to stay?” Tony stopped with just enough time to try and pull every conflicting thought close enough to see them for what they were. “Yes. Yes, I think I do. A small part of me is still angry. Ok, a large part is still angry. But I get it, even if I don’t agree and I think it was wrong. And it hurts. _So fucking much_.” Bitterness had begun to infect him, but standing here and talking helped ease the pain. “But it’s time to move on. Not to forget or anything, but to stop letting it define us. At least I’m ready to stop letting it define me.”

Tony could tell he had every gram of Steve’s attention. “I want to make it right between us. I’m not going to stop till I make it right.”

“I know you’ll try.” And he now knew he couldn’t ask for more. “And you know, I’m going to use it to win any future arguments.” Tony added playfully, trying to offset the serious tone of the conversation.

“I always expect you to use any advantage you have.” But Steve was smiling now, wide and open. “And... I’m going to do what I can to prove you can trust me. I mean it. I’m going to make it right. But just know I’m not going to always roll over.”

The was too good of an opening to pass up. “Oh- I’m sure you’ll roll over _sometimes_...”

Steve’s face turned deep red and Tony counted it as a point in his favor. After being taken aback for a second, Steve said earnestly, “So, this is really happening?”

There wasn’t a way to respond to that allowed Tony to keep his cool reputation, but honesty was cool, right? “Yeah. I guess it is.”

Without taking another moment to think about it, Steve was kissing him again. Tony wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist, and found he was standing on the tips of his toes to get a better angle. It was good kissing, the kind that enveloped you and made it hard to think of anything else except _more kissing_.

So, it was a testament to Tony’s self-control that he could use one hand to push between them and effectively stop all of it. “Woah. Slow down.” He said, almost laughing he was so happy.

“Are you telling me to slow down?” Steve looked legitimately worried that he was doing something wrong.

It made him laugh. “No matter what you say, you are still in recovery. I don’t want to be the person who ‘broke’ Captain America.”

Confidently, Steve leaned forward and began kissing him again, but this time slower and with less heat. “One, I feel fine.” He said, his lips practically still on Tony. “Two, I’m not Captain America.” And then a little more kissing. “And three, I’d like to see you _try and break me_.” There was a slight hitch in his voice, like he wasn’t sure he was saying the right thing, that made it especially sexy.

Tony let the kissing continue while he tried to sort his brain out, though when it began pick up speed and intensity, he again had to pull away. “As excited as that sentiment makes me, until a doctor declares you up for _vigorous activity_.” Tony paused to put added emphasis on the words. “Let’s take it a little slower.”

Steve gave an annoyed sigh but he was smiling. “I hope you realize you are being a hypocrite.”

“I realize it, and I don’t care.” Steve lying on the floor of the quinjet, barely breathing and covered in blood, did a good job of damping his desire.

It didn’t obliterate it, however, and they stood there, trying to follow Tony’s directive but being unable to move further apart. It felt like the center of the world’s gravity was somewhere in Steve’s body and stepping outside took more energy than he could muster.

“I think we have a lot to work out.” Tony whispered, not quite ready to break the moment.

“I thought that would be my line.”

“I didn’t know you’d be interested in this.”

“You didn’t ask. And you-”

Tony cut him off. “You slept though the late nineties.”

“When you think of all the grief we would have saved if we had just talked...” Steve said, finally stepping away. Tony could feel his absence on his skin.

“At least we are talking now.”

“We have a lot to work out with the team. Bucky wants to...” Steve trailed off, seeming to recognize a barrier that they hadn’t shattered yet.

“He’s an Avenger now.” He said, completely resolute. He meant it. Whatever had happened, Tony couldn’t pretend Bucky wasn’t a member of the team.

Steve locked eyes with him, making it very clear that he took Tony’s opinion of the matter very seriously. “You sure?”

After everything, it mostly just made him sad. It seemed unfair that the death of his parents was not just a tragedy for himself, but a source of so much pain for Bucky. “Yeah I’m sure. He stays. At least if you do.”

Steve nodded. “You know, we are still fugitives...”

“I’m pretty sure I got enough lawyers to take on the entire G8.”

“I’m not going to sign the accords.” Steve stood defiant, already ready for a fight that Tony had no intention of giving.

“You don’t have to. At least not in their current state. But they won’t go away.” Steve began to say something else, but Tony didn’t give him a chance. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.”

Tony wasn’t stupid. His mind was already mapping out all the hurdles they were bound to face. He wouldn’t be a futurist if that wasn’t true. But knowing what was in front of you also made it clear that nothing was permanent, and he intended to enjoy this as long as he could.

 

\-------

 

Bucky had been sitting all morning in the same spot by the kitchen counter. From here he could watch as the compound’s earliest risers stumbled in for pre-exercise hydration drinks and then returned for their coffee as the rest of the compound woke up. Jet lag had kept him awake the first night and it was by accident that he got to observe this ritual. But since then, more often than not, he had been getting up by choice to sit here and watch the rest of the team.

Bucky, Sam, and Steve hadn’t left the compound while the legal and political battle played itself out, but Steve kept reminding him that he could leave whenever he wanted. Bucky was sure he was saying this more for his own benefit than for Bucky. Steve was clearly chafing under the pressure of waiting patiently for someone else to pass judgment on something he had already decided was the right thing to do. But he was waiting just the same. Bucky was sure that at some point Steve wouldn’t be able to compromise anymore, and that even pre-serum, climbing Mount Everest was easier for Steve than backing down. Waiting in the compound was the hardest Bucky had ever seen him try to do anything.

For the moment, Bucky was fine there. It was nice to be in the same place, and awake, for once. Natasha was sitting with him, which she sometimes did when she wasn’t out doing something more important. Most of the team has been cleared for “avenging”, and some of the others returned to hiding, but she was almost instantly back in the game.

“I never used to be like this.” Bucky said, mostly to himself.

“Like what?” Natasha responded, seeming to sense he wanted to talk about something but still not looking up from her book.

“An early riser. Back before the war, I would never get up this early for no reason.” Thinking about it, he probably wasn’t much more likely to wake up early during the war, he just had less of a choice. “It’s just strange. Sometimes it feels like I’m exactly that person, and sometimes I’m someone new.”

“It will get easier.”

“I’m not complaining about it. I didn’t say it was bad.” And indeed, it didn’t bother him. It felt like a luxury to sit here in the morning, drink coffee, and get used to his new self. To spend the day exercising and watching movies. He wasn’t safe, per se, as he was certainly still wanted for all the devastation he’s caused. But if his sins were inevitably going to catch up to him, there probably wasn’t a better place to wait.

He was pouring another cup of coffee when Tony loudly entered the room, dragging Sam behind him. Bucky hadn’t seen much of him since he had moved in- Tony was too busy working whatever magic he had in Washington and at the UN in addition to doing whatever it was that he did for a living, to be hanging around the compound. Bucky suspected this played a part in Steve’s barely concealed irritation.

“So apparently, I’m required to consult with all of you.” Tony said with no further explanation.

Sam was clearly enjoying this. “I didn’t say that. I said we needed a quorum if we are going to provide Steve-related advice.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Tony was visibly exasperated. Bucky suspected he was exaggerating, just a little bit.

“It’s in the bylaws.” Natasha deadpanned without needing any more details. Bucky was beginning to get a feeling what this was about.

“There are actual bylaws? I thought this was a joke-”

“The Council on Cap Relations isn’t a joke.” Bucky ad-libed. For a second it looked like Tony’s good-natured annoyance was going to turn sour. Bucky didn’t know where the two of them stood. He practically lived under this man’s roof, and here he was back-talking him. As far as Bucky was concerned, the man had every right to hate him. And without Steve, Tony would just be far more open about it.

But instead Tony’s features softened and he said. “I prefer _cabal_. The Cabal on Cap Relations just sounds better. You guys should have gone with that. Make it sound more menacing, which I believe properly describes the lot of you right now.” He shook his head. Bucky wasn’t sure about it, but it almost seemed like he was enjoying the ridiculousness of the situation. “Anyway, the U.N. is voting next week, and I’m pretty sure I just locked up Russia. Please don’t ask me what I had to do to make Putin turn over, it’s not pretty and I don’t want to think about it. And don’t tell Steve I did anything. He’ll never forgive me. Anyway, if President Strong Man doesn’t screw me, you two-” He looked at Sam and Bucky, “-should be free men.”

“Wow.” Sam said. “That quick?”

“If you had trusted me from the beginning it wouldn’t even have to take this long.” Tony responded, but Sam just glared. “But I get it, you always have to do things the hard way. It’s ok, I improvised. So, barring some sort of calamity-”

“Which is asking a lot.” Natasha cut in.

“Yes. Good point. _If_ our bad luck finally ends, then you are no longer my prisoners.”

“How does Steve feel about you saying that?” Sam asked, vocalizing what Bucky was thinking.

“He’s fine with it, as long as I say it in bed.” Tony quipped without missing a beat and got noticeably smug when the three of them were so surprised they didn’t respond. “Which hopefully will happen more often now that I don’t need to spend all my time wining and dining old men in bad suits. And that’s where you three come in.”

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with aiding you in corrupting an American icon.”

“It’s funny you think I’m the one responsible for that, but no. I just need advice. It’d be nice to do something outside of the compound for once. I’m really testing the limits of my soundproofing.” He added the last part with a grin.

Natasha was now unperturbed. “Yeah. We know.”

“You want date ideas?” Bucky asked.

“I don’t need your help with planning a date. I pay people to do that for me. What I need is vacation ideas.”

“Avengers’ vacation!?”  exclaimed Sam.

Tony was visibly repulsed by the idea. “God no. Just Steve and I. Somewhere that is romantic or involves minimal clothes, or better yet, both. I’m pretty sure he’d never agree to going off the grid completely, but I’d like it be really fucking hard for any of you to get in contact with us.”

“Don’t you own an island?”

He looked confused. “I don’t think so. I should probably make sure.”

Sam shook his head. “I’m pretty sure if I had my own island, I’d know it.”

Tony shrugged. “Do you know how many things I have to manage throughout the day? Things like private islands don’t even register.”

“Paris?”

“Definitely not.” Bucky said. “If he remembers Paris the way I do, that’s a bad idea. And I think you are overthinking this. If you get him out of the compound, he’ll be happy.”

“But that’s not overkill, so it’s not Tony.” Natasha said, off-hand.

Tony looked thoughtful. “Hmmmm.... He does have a point.”

“Don’t just take that suggestion to some ridiculous conclusion.”

“You can’t stop me, it’s already happening.” Tony smiled distractedly. “Ok now I’m done with you. Except you-” He pointed at Bucky, “-we should talk.”

That mixture of guilt, fear, and preemptive anger that Bucky had been pretending wasn’t there since he’d begun living in the compound started to bubble up.

They stepped into the adjacent hallway and Tony immediately said, “Are you avoiding me?” There wasn’t an accusation in his words.

“No.” Bucky responded without thinking. He might have been making himself scarce when Tony was around, but it wasn’t on purpose. Or not completely on purpose.

“Because I told Steve I’d really like to take a go at building you a new arm.” Steve had said something about that, but somehow had made it sound like it had been his own idea. Bucky had dismissed it as naive.

There wasn’t a good response to that. “Oh. I just thought he was trying to play matchmaker.” Tony’s eyes shot up to his forehead. “He wants us to be friends. That’s important to him.” Bucky explained.

“Well, it’s important to me, too. You’re on the team.”

That was probably the very last thing Bucky expected to hear and it left him without words.

Luckily for the both of them, Tony never stopped talking. “Plus, it sounds like a fun challenge. I’m pretty sure I’ve never built something that would require so much interplay with the nervous system. We might need to get someone with more medical experience involved.” He smiled to himself. “Bruce would have loved this project. Anyway- whenever you want to begin, just come down to the lab.”

Bucky had gotten so used to going about without the arm that it hadn’t even let himself want a new one. He had certainly adjusted his fighting style to account for it. But now that it was an option, a real option and not just a naive dream of Steve’s, he very much wanted it as soon as possible.

“Today works for me.”

Some emotion played across Tony’s face. It could have been anger, confusion, joy, but whatever it was it left in an instant, leaving behind the confident man Bucky had seen so often on TV or in magazines. Even Hungary was obsessed with Tony Stark.

“I’ve got three hundred and twenty four things to do today, but if I get the first five done then Pepper will be off my back. Give me a couple of hours and we can make this happen.”

Bucky wanted to thank him, but it didn’t feel right. Not yet at least. Luckily, he was saved by Steve’s footsteps coming from down the hallway.

The both of them turned around at the same time to see Steve scrutinizing the situation. The three of them stood there for a beat, perhaps weighing the consequences of anything they wanted to say, like Bucky was.

Tony broke the silence with enthusiasm. “Great. Just in time for the team meeting.”

Bucky felt the confusion on Steve’s face. “I didn’t know there was a meeting.”

“Because I just announced it.”

“When?”

“Now. This is me announcing it.” They shared a fond look, like this exchange was just an extension of a long running inside joke.

“Is this Avengers business?” Steve asked, sounding serious but looking anything but.

Tony, for his part, looked like a kid on Christmas morning. “Definitely”

Steve visibly deflated. “I told you I was done being Captain America.”

“I was hoping that was up for negotiation. But no matter, Captain America or not, you’re still an Avenger and you’re still required at my impromptu meetings.”

None of this was convincing Steve. “I don’t see how I could still be an Avenger-”

“Stop that. You live in the compound. That makes you an Avenger. Full stop. My compound, my rules.” Tony crossed his arms and stared Steve down. Bucky was beginning to feel a little awkward. For a second it looked like Steve had something to say about those rules, but Tony seemed to know how to cut the tension. “It’s a meeting about the rules, ok? Decisions are made by those who show up. So, what are you going to do about that, _Steve_?” Tony was practically taunting him.

Which must have been the right thing to do because Steve laughed. “Whatever you say, Tony.” 

The two continued to smile at each other as Bucky felt more and more unnecessary. “I’m just.... I’m just going to tell the others. In the next room. About the meeting.” And he walked away as quickly as he could.

A few minutes later the rest of the compound sat in the board room waiting for Steve and Tony to show up. “Tony and you are cool now?” Sam half asked, half confirmed.

“I wonder what other problems Steve could solve with sex...” Clint mused aloud. “What if we have the secret to world peace under our roof, or should I say under Tony?”

Bucky and Sam visibly blanched. A loud sigh escaped Natasha. “He was always going to forgive Bucky. But yeah, the sex probably helped.”

“I’m not complaining about the results. But I’d really prefer we stop discussing the methods.”

“Agreed.”

They sat and waited in silence for a few minutes. Sam spoke first. “Are they...?”

“I really hope not.”

“Is anyone else imagining the fallout when Steve and Tony inevitably have their first fight?” Clint asked casually.

“ _First_ fight?”

“You know what I mean.”

“The Avenegers are bigger than Steve and Tony.” Natasha announced with confidence. “We should build them to withstand anything. Even those two.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” Steve said as he walked in with a satisfied grin. Tony followed him. While Steve looked as put together as Bucky had left him, Tony’s hair and shirt were now ruffled. He was smiling like a cat with feathers between its teeth. “New team, new Avengers. Starting today, we create a team that’s more than the people in this room.”

“Does this mean you’re back?” Sam asked.

Steve shared a glance with Tony, whose face had morphed from shameless to hopeful as the question was asked. “I’m… thinking about it.” If Tony’s expression was anything to go by, that must have been more ground than Steve had been willing to give before. “Which means our first priority, after saving the world, is building leadership capacity.” He smiled at Natasha as he sat down next to Tony. “You want to take over from here?”

Natasha, always unflappable, naturally commanded the presence of the room. “Steve’s right. Our first order of business is reaching out to anyone who could help. I know a certain doctor we should be talking to.” She nodded at Clint and Bucky. “That’s a job for the two of you.”

Bucky blinked once. Twice. “I don’t know it’s that’s a good idea...”

“You’ve already met him.” She said, confused.

“But that’s Avengers business. I’m not an Avenger.” 

The whole room turned to look at him. He must have said something very wrong.

Tony spoke up first. “You weren’t listening when I was telling Steve the rules. You live here, right?”

“Yeah.” He did for now, at least.

“Will you _avenge_ , if needed?”

“Yeah.”

A beat. “Ok. That’s settled. What’s next?”

“As I was saying, we need to do some recruiting...” He zoned out as Natasha continued. No one in the room looked like they had just witnessed something monumental, but Bucky felt like the ground had moved from under his feet.

He belonged. He belonged _here_.

The sins of his past weren’t going to go away. He had no doubt he would pay for what he had done. But in the meantime, he was going to fight to make as much of it right as he could.

Bucky caught Steve’s eye. He was sitting just a few inches closer to Tony than was friendly and had one of those small, subtle smiles of his. That made him inexplicably happy, knowing at this moment Steve felt content. Everything he knew about the world said that all of this happiness was only temporary. But that just meant he was going to savor every second he could get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! Thanks for reading. This was crazy fun to write.
> 
> Please let me know what you thought and all that.


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